Tomorrow's Still a Miracle
by Illusion of the Mirror
Summary: Tifa has been lonely and the fact that the recent storms give her nightmares does not help. But when Vincent pays an unexpected call, Tifa's lonesome life gets turned upside down. Is it for the better? I don't own the characters, just the story. *Currently Undergoing Construction*
1. It was a Dark and Stormy Night

It was a Dark and Stormy Night…

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Fear. Confusion. Running. Must run faster. Must escape. One foot in front of the other. She's not going fast enough! It's gaining on her! She can't outrun it! What is it even? She doesn't dare turn around to see for fear that she may slow her pace. Dodge a tree, jump over a rock. She can feel its hot breath on her neck. A root…it's too late to stop! She screams as she hurtles to the ground. All goes red.

- O -

Tifa's eyes shot open. Shaky breaths coming in gasps, she desperately tried to reorient herself as she felt a droplet of cold sweat slide between her shoulder blades. It was the dream again. Taking a moment to mop her clammy brow, Tifa realized she was sitting straight up, her legs hopelessly tangled in the sheets.

A blaze of lightning struck somewhere outside and the entire room was thrown into painful clarity before sinking back into complete darkness once more. Thunder resounded, reverberating through the walls and echoing down the empty, dark hallway beyond Tifa's bedroom door.

Forcing herself to behave rationally, Tifa peered over at the red, glowing numbers of her alarm clock. 1:37 AM. Putting a hand to her forehead, she swept her sweaty bangs away from her face, briefly weighing the pros and cons of attempting to go back to sleep. However, she quickly abandoned the idea when thunder exploded again, making her heart leap inside her chest and a slight yelp escape from her lips. _**This weather truly is the stuff of nightmares…**_

Untangling her lower limbs from the sweat-damp sheets, Tifa took in a deep, rain scented breath. _**This is ridicules; you're a grown woman, not a sniveling child!**_She inwardly chastised herself before touching her bare feet to the floor, wincing slightly at the chill of the aged wood against her skin. Slowly, she rose from the bed and absently approached the window at the far end of the shadow-soaked room. Pulling back the gauzy curtain, she watched with passive wonder the raindrops that bounced off the pane and forged rivers down the hand-blown glass. The pressing clouds in the distance flickered erratically as bolts of lightning battled for dominance in the heights.

Tifa pulled away from the window as another rumble echoed through the old structure she now called home. She retreated from her quarters, grabbing her plush robe from the hook on the back of her door. It seemed to her that storms were always the loudest in this room.

Closing the heavy wooden door with a quiet 'snick', Tifa tried her hardest to ignore the yawning emptiness of the room opposite her own. But it was not to be. Another painfully exposing flash of light lit up the dark recesses of the room that had once housed her precious children. If she strained her ears, she could almost hear soft murmurs fluttering down the hallway.

But that was impossible. Marlene and Denzel had moved out months ago, leaving her utterly alone in this museum of a house.

Tifa squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. She could not linger on these thoughts. _**There be monsters in those waters.**_

The children hadn't wanted to leave her, and Tifa knew that. It had been her choice to take Barret up on his offer of guardianship. Denzel desperately needed a male role model, and though Tifa was adept at many things, that was something she could never provide. There was little in this life that she regretted more. The familiar stab of unshed tears pricked at her eyes and Tifa turned from the vacant room that so aptly mirrored her heart. She groped along the paneled wall until her fingertips found the smoothed wood of the banister and then slowly descended the stairs.

Once on the ground floor, Tifa rounded the corner to the newly refurbished kitchen and fumbled through the darkness until she found the handle of the refrigerator. She tugged open both doors, blinking in the startlingly bright light and then scanned the contents found therein. Ah. There on the second shelf of the freezer was an unfinished pint of rocky road ice cream. "Well," she sighed to no one in particular. "If there was ever a night for comfort food, this is it." She grabbed the chocolaty treat and reached across the counter to procure a spoon, closing the fridge with her foot.

"Forget the bowl. We're going all in tonight, girl."

Popping the top from the carton, she crossed into the main room of the house, humming in approval as the cold dessert sat on her tongue. She gazed up at the lofted ceiling, her eyes following the wooden rafters until they disappeared in the inky blackness above. The large stone fireplace at the far end of the room still glowed with the last embers of the fire she had lit the night before. Tifa seated herself cross-legged in front of the dying fire, enjoying the heady scent of chopped wood and roasted nuts that ghosted past her senses.

The rain continued to rhythmically beat against the sides of the house and, as Tifa's eyes adjusted to the darkness, her appreciative thoughts began to wax reminiscent. She remembered when she had first walked through the old house she now inhabited. It was drafty and dusty and the plumbing had desperately needed updating. The floors creaked, the timbers groaned, and every room was piled with threadbare furniture and rat droppings. But Tifa had been absolutely enchanted. The house and the surrounding acreage abutted a dense wood that gave the place a wild and secluded feel despite the fact that the property was only a mile and a half outside of town. It was a safe haven and just what their family needed.

Tifa had snatched the place right up. And the days following had been full of frustration and hard work. But they had all been together, Marlene, Denzel, Barret, and Cloud, and in very little time, the place had the comfortable feel of a well-loved home. _**Those were good times,**_ she thought with a wistful smile. After selling her bar, she had had enough money to purchase the neighboring property and convert the charming two-story thereon into a small restaurant.

It had taken several months, but once all was said and done, Tifa knew that they could all live happily ever after.

But like everything in this world, it hadn't lasted. Not three weeks into their new life, Cloud had up and left. There was no warning, no note, no apology. He was just gone. And Tifa never even bothered to look for him.

Without Cloud around to watch the house or run deliveries or help juggle the many responsibilities of raising two children, Tifa was no longer able to offer Denzel and Marlene the stability they so desperately needed. She had been hurt by Cloud's abandonment, but what hurt more was to see how hard it was on the children. They had tried to continue on as she was: like nothing had happened. Within the next week she called Barret, and the children moved out too.

And she was angry. Oh! Was she ever angry! She had tried so damn hard to keep everything together. She had sunk all of her energy, all of her funds, and all of her heart into the hope that this time, Cloud had really changed, that this time they would be a family for real. It wasn't even about being romantically betrayed by him. No, she had known it would be a long time before he would ever be ready to love again. The hardest part was knowing that she had been naïve enough to pin all her dreams upon him.

Again.

And try as she may, she could not forget the anger, could not release it. She could not forgive him. And she sure as hell wasn't going to cry about it. Not anymore.

A blaze of lightning lit up the room and Tifa braced herself for the thunder that would naturally follow. The slow rumble reverberated through the house, rattling the pictures on the walls and the china in the cupboards. Shaking her mind free of melancholy thoughts, she squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep breath to relax her nerves. As the echo of thunder ebbed away an odd hollow thumping reached Tifa's ears. It was almost like…almost like someone was knocking on her front door.

Silently, Tifa rose from her spot by the fire, setting her empty carton and spoon aside. She stole over the window next to the front entrance. Cautiously, she peeled back the curtains and squinted out into the gloom of the night. A silhouette just barely distinguished itself from the backdrop of the shadowed porch. _**Who on earth…?**_

Then, slowly at first, the figure began to move and a sudden flicker of flame illuminated the face of the visitor as his wine colored irises stared right into her own through the glass pane. _**Good god, it's Vincent! **_Tifa quickly switched on the lamp next to the door, flipped her long hair over her shoulder and threw back the deadbolt almost simultaneously.

As their gazes met, she was immediately bewitched by those piercing, crimson eyes peering out from behind his ebony locks. They seemed to glow in the dim lamplight, not unlike the embers of a dying fire.

"Vincent! I…you…come in! You're soaked!" She stepped aside and Vincent stalked over the threshold into the parlor, casting an appreciative nod in her direction while flicking shut his metal cigarette lighter. She closed the door behind him relocked it.

Vincent turned to face her as he brushed a few moist strands of hair from his face. Rivulets of water rolled down his black trench coat and dripped to the floor. He lowered his hood and shook his head. "I was not sure if you would be awake at such an hour."

"I get very little sleep anymore." She dismissed his questioning look with a nervous laugh. "Storms keep me awake and all that." She laced her fingers behind her back and eyed the duffel thrown over his shoulder. "So, not that I mind or anything, but why are you here? Has something happened?"

Vincent removed his coat to reveal black slacks and a black button-down dress shirt. He draped the wet coat over the back of one of the matching wingback chairs facing the fireplace, turned away from her, and proceeded to leave the room. _Where is he going?_ Tifa followed him into the kitchen where she found him looking out the window over the sink. He turned his head slightly to address her.

"Are you here alone?"

The question itself was innocuous but Tifa suspected that Vincent knew she was usually here alone. The inquiry set off a flare of indignance but she quickly suppressed it. "Yes…" She sighed. "What's with the covert ops bit?"

"Forgive me for my unannounced arrival. I am aware that this must be…a surprise." He turned to face her completely. "I would have called but reception…"

Tifa noticed a bead of red dripping off the tip of his finger and leaned forward to find a dark stain adorning the inside of his left sleeve. "Vincent! You're bleeding!"

He looked down and deftly rolled up his sleeve to reveal a fairly deep cut up his forearm. "Ah. So I am."

"How could you not notice that!" Tifa grabbed the nearest dish rag, took hold of Vincent's arm, and immediately began dabbing away the blood. It wasn't bleeding as badly as it could be.

"That will not be necessary," he said, half-heartedly attempting to extricate his arm from her grasp.

"Nonsense. I won't have you traipsing in here at two in the morning in the middle of the biggest storm of the decade just to die of blood loss on my kitchen floor." She knew Vincent didn't like to be fussed over, so she'd just have to bully him into accepting her aid. "I make food in here you know," she huffed as she brushed a few stray wisps of hair from her eyes. "How did this happen? Don't you usually wear your gauntlet on this arm?"

If her rapid-fire questions annoyed him, Vincent didn't show it. He merely hummed in answer as she draped the bloodied towel over his arm and crossed to the supply cupboard to find her first aid kit. "In my line of work, it's best to go unnoticed."

"I suppose a golden claw does tend to draw the eyes," Tifa quipped as she dug through the many bottles and boxes beneath the sink. Finding the red and white box she was looking for, she turned back and fixed him with a pointed look. "Why are you bleeding, Vincent?"

Averting his gaze, Vincent simply shrugged. "There was an altercation."

"What kind of altercation? With whom?" Tifa waited a beat for his response, but as expected Vincent left the statement standing. She heaved a sigh. "Fine. Be cryptic. I'm still going to dress your wound." She lightly took hold of his uninjured arm and led him into the front room before sitting next to him on the front sofa. Tifa cleaned the cut with alcohol and placed gauze over the wound before wrapping it. He flinched a bit at the sting, but remained silent but for the gentle pulls and gusts of his breath.

Tifa inwardly relished the contact. For as long as she'd known Vincent, he'd never been the kind of man to touch or be touched, except in combat. It was also rare that he actually required aid, so the very fact that she was able to help, even with something so small, caused a bubble of warmth to spread through her chest. She liked helping people; she liked being needed.

Finished, Tifa taped the wrap shut with a small flourish. "There you go. You'll be in ship shape in no time."

Vincent studied his hand, flexed his fingers pensively and then he looked up and met her eyes. "That was not necessary. My body regenerates quite quickly."

Though she couldn't help but feel a bit foolish, she dismissed any embarrassment with a wave of her hand. "Vincent, you're my friend; I couldn't just stand there and watch you bleed."

"Mm." He looked down again and began adjusting his shirtsleeves.

Tifa took a moment to observe him more closely. She knew that for the last several months he had been working as some sort of bounty hunter/private investigator, but that was the extent of her knowledge about his goings on. To look at him now, he had come a long way from the brooding man they'd found in Nibelheim; since then he'd chased away most of his demons.

But something was troubling him. Tifa wasn't sure how she knew; she surely didn't read it in his expression. Nonetheless, she couldn't help the feeling that he was holding something back that he actually wanted to say.

"So then," she began lightly. "What brings you to my doorstep on this dark and stormy night?"

"I apologize. I realize that it is late…I was in the neighborhood and because of the storm thought that…" he trailed off.

What? Vincent was checking up on her? Was he worried about her? She didn't know why, but the thought made her feel warm all over. "You were checking up on me?"

He paused a beat, then spoke. "I was on my way to Rocket Town and it is doubtless that Cid and Shera will inquire as to your well-being." He met her gaze with those intense crimson eyes.

"Oh." Tifa had to admit to herself that she was disappointed; she rather liked the idea of him visiting merely because he wanted to see her. But still, she was glad for any company on a night like this. "Well, as you can see, I'm quite alright."

Vincent glanced at the empty ice cream carton next to the fire place and raised an eyebrow. "Indeed."

Tifa bit her lip as a warm blush spread across her cheeks and nose. She promptly rose from her seat. "Here, let me get you something to drink."

"Please, do not trouble yourself."

"No trouble at all!" And before he could protest further, she had already gone to the sidebar to pour him a sherry glass of his favorite vodka. As she did so, she couldn't help wondering why he would be traveling by foot…in the middle of the night.

When she returned, Vincent was staring into the dying firelight, the warm glow casting shadows across the sharp planes of his profile, accentuating his high cheekbones. The man was beautiful, there was no denying it. And Tifa had always had a weakness for the tall, dark and handsome type. Catching herself in these thoughts, she blushed wildly. _**Come on, girl. Get it together.**_ Returning to where he sat on the couch, she handed him his drink and took her seat across from him once more.

"Thank you," he murmured softly without meeting her eyes.

"Don't mention it," Tifa replied lightly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes as Vincent sipped and Tifa fidgeted. What should she say?

"So, I know the storm's bad over here, obviously, how was it elsewhere in the city?"

"Rainy," Vincent stated simply.

"…like, what kind of rainy?" Tifa prodded.

Vincent set his empty glass aside and sighed, almost as if the question was an annoyance. "Well, the rivers have swelled and the power is out in different sections of Midgar. The wind has picked up and has caused some minor property damage." He looked at her with an eyebrow arched as if to say _**'but that's not what you really want to ask, is it?'**_

Well, she might as well just take the plunge, eh? "So if the weather was that bad, why did you walk through it just to come here?"

Vincent tapped the arm of his chair lightly. "It was not so bad when I started out."

"You could have taken a cab."

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of the gunman's lips. "I am not afraid of getting a little wet."

"Oh…right…of course."

Thunder rolled in the distance and Tifa tried to stifle a yawn that had been rudely pestering her.

"I see you are tired. Perhaps I should-"

"Oh, no. What kind of a friend would I be if I let you go back out in this!" She stood quickly while he looked up at her with a slightly inquisitive expression on his face. "I have an extra room all made up. Why don't you just stay here?"

Vincent must have known Tifa well enough to sense this was more of an expectation than a suggestion. Tifa could be quite stubborn when she wanted to. They had all seen that. He pushed himself up from his chair and responded with a nod.

As Tifa led him up the stairs, she allowed herself a triumphant smile. That was an easy victory if she ever had one. He didn't even utter a word of argument. She escorted him to the extra room, pointedly ignoring the empty room at the end of the hall…the one with two empty beds.

"Here you are, sir," Tifa said warmly.

Vincent gave her another one of those eyebrow looks. They seemed to appear quite often when he was around her. "For being awake at this hour, you certainly are cheery."

Tifa ducked her head and smiled sheepishly. "That's me…Miss Cheery!" He looked into the room and surveyed the layout. Tifa felt as though she was being scrutinized herself. "I'm sorry it's not all that much. I mean, I was thinking about painting it or something to keep it from being so blah."

He stepped into the room and turned to face her. "It will be fine."

"Alrighty then. Goodnight, Vincent."

"Goodnight, Tifa."

He then shut the door without another word and Tifa walked back to her own room. She closed the door and leaned against it, smiling to herself as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Even if it wasn't merely for his own interests, Vincent had come to see her, nevermind that she would normally not be awake at that hour. It meant a lot. It meant that someone was thinking of her. And the fact that he had allowed her to bully him into staying the night meant that she wasn't alone.

She pulled back the sheets and climbed under the quilt that Shera had made for her. Pulling it up close under her chin, she rolled over to face the window. Ever since Cloud had left, Tifa would get frequent visits from old friends. She supposed that they expected she was having trouble coping. Even though some people might find such a thing insulting, Tifa didn't mind. She was glad for the company. Especially when Barret would bring the kids over to spend the night.

Idly, Tifa let her mind wander back to Vincent's injury. What could he have been doing? Did he get into a fight with someone? Well, it wasn't unusual that he'd be in some sort of danger, what with the fact that he was Vincent.

Tifa was grateful to her friends for being there for her, but she had to admit to herself that if it had been Yuffie or Cid who had payed a visit, she would have been less enthusiastic. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling letting her eyes trace the shadows. Sure, Vincent could be cryptic and sometimes he could be downright unfriendly, but ever since he joined Avalanche all those years ago, she had been intrigued by him: intrigued by his complexity, intrigued by his mysterious personality, and, of course, intrigued by his strikingly handsome features.

And who could blame her for that? She had every right to be attracted to anyone she wanted. So then…why was she trying to convince herself of that? _**Bah…this is pointless. Vincent and I are just friends. The point is moot.**_

Tifa closed her eyes and tried to quiet her thoughts. She had to get _some_ sleep tonight. Hopefully, it would be the dreamless kind.

- O -

7


	2. Breakfast of Champions

Breakfast of Champions

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Morning came, as it's prone to do, and Tifa was very much ready to open the windows to warm summer breezes, chirping song-birds, and glistening sunshine. However, when she opened her eyes, she found the room to be quite dim. Fearing that she had once again awoken prematurely and would have to battle with insomnia, an all too frequent occurrence as of late, Tifa rolled over to peer at her alarm clock.

"Nine o'clock, huh?" she asked no one in particular. Letting herself still beneath the sheets, she strained to listen for the twitters of the early bird. The only sounds that reached her ears were the creaks and groans of her ancient house and the light pitter-patter of precipitation against the windows. She allowed herself a groan of discontent before forcing her sleep drunk body out of bed.

A deep yawn overtook her as she shuffled to her dresser, stretching the last vestiges of slumber from her muscles. "Well, Tifa," she sighed as she began to dig through the deep drawers for a change of clothes, "looks like you'll be spending another day inside." She crossed the room to her master bathroom, a misleading label, seeing as the room was little more than a walk-in closet, and stripped down for a hot shower. "God, I hope that the water heater is working today…"

Luckily, the antique appliance seemed to hear her murmured prayer and soon hot water poured from the silver spigot steadily, steam already beginning to fill the tiny room. Tifa climbed into the claw foot tub, pulling her chocobo print shower curtain closed behind her. Once beneath the massaging stream, she allowed herself to completely relax, relishing in the way that the rivulets of near-scalding water trailed down her arms and dripped off the end of her nose.

It was those precious moments of physical bliss where she was blessed with the gift of non-thought, graciously allowed freedom from her stresses, from her memories. But as she reluctantly began her daily washing ritual, her traitorous mind began to whir through all things undesirable. And in no time at all, she was thinking about Cloud.

After they had defeated Sephiroth in his clones, Cloud had shown so much promise. He even smiled occasionally. She had been convinced that he was through his funk…but looking back, it was more likely that she had been the one convincing herself. She had been so desperate to have a family again.

Tifa had never known her mother, couldn't even tell anyone what she looked like. She didn't even have any photographs to place on her bedside table. As far back as she could remember it had been her and her dad. And though he had been very, very dear to her, there were just some things a single father could not give his only daughter. Still, she never begrudged him. He always did his best; she had followed suit. They had relied on each other.

But then…he died. And suddenly, so very suddenly, Tifa was left alone.

And then, three years ago, Cloud, the single remaining piece of her perfect childhood, walked back into her life, and she had embarked on a journey with him to save the planet. They had lost dear friends along the way, but their bond became stronger for it. She had hoped that once the planet returned to normal, Cloud would settle down with her; she had hoped to have a family again. She had so craved the love her father had shown.

But Cloud was not her father. And he was not her lover. And sometimes, she even questioned whether or not he was her friend. There was no doubt in her mind that he loved her and the children in his own way, but what their family had needed most was stability, or at least the effort put forth to attempt a stable life. And while it was better for a while, wonderful, in fact, Cloud began to lapse back into his melancholy.

Tifa had tried to ignore it. She tried to keep Marlene and Denzel from seeing the signs of his descent into depression. But as much as she was loathe to admit it, Tifa simply was not strong enough. She could barely keep her own spirits up, let alone carry Clouds emotional dead weight. And then, one night, she'd heard his motorbike roar out of the gravel driveway, and she had known that he was leaving for good.

And all she did was roll over and let herself slip back into her dreams.

Tifa silenced her thoughts with the sharp squeak of the spigot handles and stepped out of the bathtub onto the plush rug which took up most of the bathroom floor. As she toweled of, she recalled the letter Cloud had sent her six months later. It had been ludicrously short, as though he had only stepped out for groceries, and his tone was startlingly light. But what had been the slap in the face was his ending statement. _**"Give the kids a hug and kiss for me. See you soon."**_

It was the most presumptuous and offending statement she had ever seen: to assume that she would do anything for **her** children in **his **name! And even worse! How could he possibly think that any of them would want to have anything to do with him after his disappearing act?

Tifa didn't bother to suppress her humorless laugh. "The best part is, I haven't heard from him since." She jammed her legs into a pair of cut-off shorts and angrily tugged a black tank top over her head. Swinging the bathroom door open a little bit more roughly than necessary, she fumed her way into her bedroom, hurling her dirty clothing into the wicker hamper next to her full length antique mirror, one of the many pieces that had come with the house.

Then, somewhere downstairs, a door opened and closed, quietly, like someone had meant to go undetected. Tifa froze, her heart caught in her throat. It didn't take long before the memory of the previous night crashed down onto her. "Oh, god! I completely forget that Vincent was here!" she hissed to herself as she briskly stalked into the hallway, her cheeks burning in horror that she was such a terrible hostess.

Just as she reached the top of the staircase, a tantalizing aroma caused her to pause. Was that…bacon? Slowly, she descended the stairs, trying her best to make as little noise as possible. Reaching the landing, she gracefully leapt over the last two notoriously squeaky steps and landed soundlessly on the main floor next to the kitchen archway. Trepidatiously, she peered around the corner.

Vincent was standing at the gas stove, his back three fourths to her, but she could just make out his profile. He was wearing pretty much the same outfit from the night before, only this dress shirt had grey pinstripes. The sleeves were cuffed past his elbows, leaving a comparatively large amount of pale skin exposed. The wound from the previous night was nowhere to be seen.

His long ebon locks were pulled back into a loose ponytail that hung just past his shoulders. Tifa allowed herself a moment of guiltless ogling as she studied the lines of his profile, the way he gazed so intently at his work, a pan of sizzling bacon. She watched his chest rise and fall as he gave the task his complete concentration. She could hear him humming softly to himself. The hollow ache that blossomed beneath her ribcage startled her.

"How do you like your eggs, Tifa?"

Immediately, Tifa's wide eyes shot up to meet his. When had he looked over his shoulder? She must have looked ridiculous, leaning in through the doorway as she was, because that eyebrow was up again.

She laughed timidly and flushed crimson. "Um…over easy, thanks." She remained in the doorway, shuffling her weight from one foot to the other and back again.

"Feel free to come in, this is your kitchen." Tifa could hear the smirk in his words as he turned back to his work, cracking an egg over a second skillet. She was immensely grateful that his eyes weren't on her at that moment; she felt utterly foolish.

Opting to completely ignore her embarrassment, Tifa approached and leaned against the counter, her hands bracing her up on either side. "Wow! You really didn't have to do all this." She scanned the plates of bacon, toast, and…was that fresh squeezed orange juice? Tifa couldn't help but grin as she noticed the basket of fruit on the table was conspicuously devoid of citrus. "You never struck me as the breakfast kind of guy, Vincent."

Turning off the burners, Vincent slid the eggs onto another plate, the smile tugging playfully at the corners of his lips. "You'll find I'm quite full of surprises." He set down the platter and started wiping down the stove with a damp towel. "I did not mean to wake you."

"Oh, you didn't." Tifa busied herself collecting place settings from the cupboards and began dressing the table. "I'm afraid you've made me out to be a poor hostess, I mean, you **are** my guest."

"Hm." Vincent let his wordless reply stand as he placed the steaming plates of breakfast on the table. After arranging them just so, he pulled out one of the mahogany dining chairs and stood next to it. It took Tifa a second, but she realized he had pulled it out for her.

"Thank you," she said with a slight blush, not used to such gentlemanly conduct. She did run a bar after all. Vincent sat in the seat opposite her and waited for her to dish herself up.

Once her plate was full, Tifa had to force herself not to hork everything down and go in for seconds. The only thing she'd eaten in the last sixteen hours was half a pint of ice cream and, if she was honest with herself, she hadn't eaten a real breakfast since the last time Barret and the children had stayed over, which was…too long ago.

Reminding herself to swallow before speaking, Tifa took a moment before interjecting into the silence. "This is really great, Vincent. Thanks. I mean, really."

Vincent nodded cordially and hummed in response, seemingly pleased at her praise of his culinary skills.

Throughout the meal, Tifa told him about the goings on at the restaurant, her new hires and such, and answered his polite inquiries about her old house. She had noticed that he appeared quite interested in the building's past, but it hadn't surprised her overmuch. Vincent was the type of man who likes to know things. She had always liked that about him.

And right then, she liked him twice as much because, even though the conversation was completely mundane, she relished the company and the chance to really talk to someone.

When they had both cleared their plates, Tifa rose and began collecting the breakfast dishes. Vincent rose as well and did likewise. "Hey, wait a minute," she chided with her free hand on her hip. "You made this wonderful meal, so it's only fair that I get the dishes."

If he heard her, Vincent didn't give any sign. He simply placed the plug in the sink and began filling the basin with hot water.

"Uh, Vincent?"

Still no reply but he did pull the dish soap from under the sink and squirt a dollop into the water.

"Hello? Didn't you hear me?" she asked, trying to gently nudge him from in front of the sink.

Vincent, however, would not be moved. He merely stacked the dirty skillets in the basin and then handed her a towel. The smirk on his face made the message was quite clear. _**You dry.**_

Well, she'd be damned if she let him get his way. Besides, she was quite sure that he was **teasing** her. Such an act could not go unpunished. She took the towel from him and threw it over her shoulder, and he seemed to take the act as a sign of her acquiescence because he began to scrub the dishes in earnest.

Quick as a flash, Tifa reached into the sink, scooped up a handful of lemon-scented bubbles and promptly thrust them into Vincent's face. She giggled as he held dripping hands out of the water and spit the soap off his lips, one eye closed from the assault. Tifa stood with one hand on her hip and smiled a triumphantly. "You **so** deserved that."

Vincent wiped his face clear with the back of his wrist fixing her with a pointed crimson glare. Then, he reached for the nozzle beside the faucet, pulled it out as far as the hose would allow, and pointed it straight at her.

Tifa pointed a finger back at him and took a half-step back. "No." she commanded, sounding anything but commanding. Alas, her pitiful attempt did nothing to stop Vincent. He arched an eyebrow and pulled the trigger.

Tifa's hands shot up and she tried to dodge the stream. She was grossly unsuccessful and when Vincent released the trigger, she gaped incredulously at him as cold droplets dripped from her fingertips.

This time Vincent actually did smile, albeit briefly. "Do you concede?"

Tifa narrowed and put on her best glower. "Never."

Without warning, Tifa lashed out and pulled a cup full of water from the soapy sink, splashing the contents across the front of her assailant's shirt. Aided by the distraction of his wet hair covering his eyes, Tifa seized the opportunity, lunging for the nozzle in his hand. The two wrestled over the nozzle for a moment or two, thoroughly soaking themselves in the process.

Unfortunately, as is customary when one is trying to appear witty or adroit, Tifa slipped on the wet tile and landed rather gracelessly on her back-side. Vincent arched his eyebrow but said nothing. Rather, he held out his hand to help her to her feet.

Tifa smiled weakly and accepted. "I suppose you win this round, Mister Valentine."

So there they were: two adults standing in a dripping wet kitchen covered from head to toe in water soaked garments. "We should probably clean this up," Tifa said with a laugh.

Vincent nodded with a wry smile. "Indeed."

So they used what was left of the dry towels to sop up the kitchen and then finished the dishes.

Tifa washed. Vincent dried.

- O -

"So, when did you end up getting up this morning?" Tifa swirled a glass of lemonade as Vincent started repacking his bag.

"Hm. I would say around six o'clock." The zipper groaned as he closed the final pouch. Now that they were in fresh clothes, they were merely waiting for the last articles of Vincent's clothing to come out of the dryer. After that, he would be leaving.

A couple of questions niggled in the back of Tifa's mind. Vincent had seemed so out of sorts the previous night…did it have something to do with his injury? Why the sudden retreat from the city? Was he in some sort of trouble? Or maybe he just needed a vacation…

Unlikely.

But right now she had a bigger issue. Despite the fact that she knew that Vincent never did anything or went anywhere without a good reason, she didn't want him to leave. Engaging him in small talk was just her way of biding time as she tried to think of a way to get him to stay, even for one more night.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Vincent's deep baritone voice. "Tifa, I believe the dryer is finished."

"Oh, yeah…right." She rose, heading to the laundry closet, and pulled his clothes from the machine. He accepted them from her with a genial nod of his head and tucked them into his bag. Now, completely ready, he approached the door, preparing to leave.

_**Quick Tifa! Think of something to say to make him stay! Tell him how lonely you are! Tell him you need someone to keep you company! Tell him how handsome he is! Anything! **_

Vincent opened the door.

She took a step forward, gripping her elbows. "So…how long will you be staying in Rocket Town?"

"Not long." He looked up towards the ceiling. "Perhaps I shall visit Red XIII at the canyon." Then he turned and looked straight into her eyes, his crimson gaze burning into hers. "Was there something that you needed, Miss Lockheart?"

_**This is it! Tell him how you feel!**_

"Well, there's this light bulb in the stairway that needs changed and I'm not quite tall enough to reach it." _**Nice.**_

Vincent quirked an eyebrow, glancing up towards the aforementioned bulb. "Well, we can't have you climbing the stairs in the dark now, can we?"

- O -


	3. Memories and Nightmares

Memories and Nightmares

By: Illusion of the Mirror

A silver curtain of rain blurred the usually picturesque view of the woods from the wooden front porch. Tifa and Vincent sat in companionable silence, each in one of the white wicker chairs Tifa had so carefully selected when she bought the place. She was utterly content just being here with him, listening to the rhythmic beating of the rain.

She smiled as she watched Vincent sip the vodka and tonic she had mixed for him and chuckled lightly as she thought of the escapade of the day. After searching through the cavernous basement for a ladder tall enough to reach the light fixture above the stairs, it had taken Vincent very little time to complete the task. But since they were at it, Tifa requested that he help her change **all **the light bulbs out for the new energy-efficient ones she had bought months ago, a task that would take hours. If Vincent had suspected her motives, he didn't let on. Overall, it had been fairly easy to get him to stay, and for that, Tifa was exceedingly grateful.

Now, as she nursed her glass of merlot, Tifa observed her companion with piqued interest. It was definitely evident that something was troubling him. He kept scanning the surrounding area as if expecting someone or something to appear. Granted, as long as she had known Vincent, he had been ever the vigilant type, but tonight, a peculiar aura of tension seemed to surround him. If asked, Tifa couldn't explain it, but she could feel it, and she could see it in the way that his eyes never stopped moving.

In fact, as they had been traipsing about the house searching for sockets that needed filling, several times Tifa had caught him looking out a window or pausing to listen for any foreign sound. Frankly, his behavior was unnerving.

She took a long sip of wine and then cleared her throat. "So…Vincent, I was thinking that since you're here, maybe you could help me clean out the attic."

For the first time since they moved to the porch, Vincent fixed her with his gaze, an eyebrow up in question.

Tifa situated herself so that she was facing him, sideways in her chair. "Well, you see, there's some heavy stuff up there that I can't lift and…" she paused and then sighed abashedly, "It's kind of scary up there."

The thought of Tifa, a grown woman who had fought off the end of the world, scared of the dark, musty attic of her own house, proved too much for Vincent. Much to Tifa's surprise, he let loose a short laugh but composed himself quickly. It wasn't sharp, but rather, a gentle sort of sound. Tifa wished she heard it more often.

Her ears burned as a blush spread across her face. "Is something funny, Mr. Valentine?" she asked in playful incredulity.

Vincent simply shook his head and took another sip of his Vodka. "I suppose that could be arranged, Miss Lockheart."

The humor in his voice caused Tifa to break into a smile. She was glad that he had mellowed out since they had first met him; he had been so humorless and brooding. Now, even though he was still highly reserved, Vincent seemed much more…well, human. Tifa's smile broadened as she emptied her glass. Thunder rolled in the distance and the rain started to fall a bit harder, a light wind swirling some of the drops up underneath the roof of the porch. Tifa shuddered and pulled her knees up to her chest, setting her glass aside thoughtfully.

"You know," she said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I used to love the rain. Back in Nibelheim, there was an old shed behind our house. When I was a kid, I used to run out there during storms and listen to the rain hitting the tin roof. The sound was always so…calming. I used to imagine it was my mother reaching down to tell me that she loved me and that everything would be okay."

There was a pause and Tifa suddenly felt self-conscious. "I suppose it sounds silly…"

Vincent turned to look at her. "Not at all." His gaze drifted upward as if he was trying to pull a distant memory from the recesses of his mind. Then, an almost wistful smile graced his lips, his expression softening almost imperceptibly.

"When I was a young boy I found a little cave during my explorations of the woods. During the frequent summer rainstorms I would hole up in the cave, oftentimes pretending I was an adventurer traveling distant and undiscovered lands, perhaps running from enemy natives."

Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the reminiscent look on his face faded. He met Tifa's eyes again. "So why is it that storms now trouble you?"

Tifa crinkled her nose, "Trouble me?"

He nodded and pinned her with piercing crimson eyes.

It took a moment for Tifa to gather her thoughts. It was very rare that Vincent ever shared any stories from his past, and she had **never** heard one from his childhood. She shook her head slightly and looked down at her clasped hands. "I'm not sure when it happened…but now that I'm older, storms make me feel so…so small. They make me feel so very…"

"Alone."

Tifa met his eyes then. That single word had held such meaning, although she had no idea what sort. She nodded and smiled pensively. "Yes. I find it odd that as a child, I was emboldened by the very same thing that now makes me feel so much like a child."

Lightning struck the trees beyond the county road and thunder pealed moments later. "It seems you won't be alone this time," Vincent murmured as he finished his drink.

Tifa hugged her knees a bit tighter to hide her spreading grin. "Yes. Yes it does."

- O -

She is hiding. The closet is warm with her sweat. She prays her breath is quiet so that he won't hear her. The crack of light beneath the door darkens. The footfalls cease. He is right outside the door! She hears him turn and start searching the room. It's her only chance. She takes it. The door flings open and she races down the blurry staircase and out the door into the pouring rain. Thunder booms in her ears and all the noise, save the pounding of her feet and the beating of her heart, fades.

She sprints into the woods. He's following! He's right on her heels! Who? She has no idea. She knows nothing but running. She has to find help. One foot in front of the other. Her muscles ache, her lungs burn, and she runs, runs, runs and she does not see the root. That same damn root. It's too late. She trip. She careens to the earthen floor. She screams as his shadow creeps over her fallen figure. All goes red.

- O -

Tifa burst out of the nightmare with a start, gasping for breath. A drop of sweat slid down her cheek…or was that a tear? It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but she began to reorient herself. She was in her room. She was safe.

The nightmare was different this time, and Tifa was vexed by it. It was more real, more complete. But it had still ended the same. Thunder rolled in the distance and Tifa threw back her quilt. No way in hell was she going to sleep in here tonight.

Exiting her room and pulling the door closed softly behind her, Tifa crept into the hall, careful not to make a sound as she passed Vincent's room. But as she reached the staircase, something was wrong. There was a light on somewhere downstairs and she was **sure** they had been off when she and Vincent had retired to bed.

Tifa knew that Vincent was probably responsible for the light, but the nightmare had put her on edge, so she was extra careful descending the stairs. Once on the landing, she saw that the light was actually coming from a newly lit fire that blazed in the oversized stone fireplace. Vincent was nowhere in sight.

"Hello," she said in a near whisper. "Vincent?" No answer.

Rubbing her bare arms, Tifa moved closer to the flames, her tired eyes entranced by the hypnotic tongues of orange and yellow as they devoured the wooden logs offered to them so graciously.

"Tifa?"

Tifa jumped at the sound of Vincent's deep voice. She held her hand over her heart and let out a few deep breaths. "Oh, Vincent, you startled me!"

Vincent bowed his head in apology. "I am sorry. That was not my intention." He approached slowly, that eyebrow raised again. "Why are you awake at this hour?"

"I might ask you the same thing." Tifa sat down on the sofa in front of the fire and tried to calm her nerves. "The storm woke me up." It was sort of true.

"I can see where that would be a problem," Vincent said as another clap of thunder echoed through the old house, much closer than the last. He sat next to her and offered her a half-empty bowl of popcorn.

She fixed him with a questioning look but accepted the bowl, taking a handful. "Hm, I didn't think you were the popcorn type, Vincent."

He took the bowl back from her with a slight smile. "Like I said before, I happen to be full of surprises."

It was Tifa's turn to smile. Then, a deliciously fanciful idea came to her. "Wait here." She rose from her seat and hurried into the kitchen.

When she returned to the couch, she bore two shish-ka-bob stakes, an enormous chocolate bar, a bag of marshmallows, and a box of graham crackers. She set the items down on the coffee table with a flourish.

"Do you know what these are for?" she asked with a playful smile.

He gave her one of those eyebrow looks. "S'mores, perhaps?"

"Very good!" Tifa clapped her hands together and sat down. "Do you like smores, Vincent?" She held up the chocolate bar and held it in front of her nose. When he didn't reply, she shook her head and picked up one of the wooden sticks. "Here, I'll help you out." She produced a puffy, white marshmallow from the bag and skewered it before holding the finished product out to Vincent.

He hesitantly took that stake from her and she immediately began to build her own. Once she had finished, she set the bag of marshmallows aside. "Splendid! Then…shall we?"

After a bit more prodding, Tifa got Vincent to join her in roasting the tasty treats. When Tifa was roasting her third and Vincent his fourth, they ran out of chocolate and discarded the other ingredients, opting to simply roast the marshmallows. When Tifa made fun of Vincent for eating his marshmallows nearly burned, he raised and referenced the fact that she merely warmed hers in the fire before stuffing them in her mouth. This led to Tifa throwing her warm, squishy marshmallow at Vincent, who then threw his own crispy marshmallow at her.

After they had polished off half of the bag, Tifa leaned back and yawned a great, sleepy yawn. Vincent stifled a yawn as well and she smiled. "Sorry, that was my fault. I should have known better than to start yawning."

This earned a rather wry smile from Vincent. "Yes, well, as long as you do not let it happen again."

Tifa rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock above the fireplace. "God, it's already three." She turned to Vincent. "I guess we should probably get some sleep then."

"I suppose."

While Tifa put away the mess of ingredients, Vincent put out the fire, and then together they climbed the stairs.

"Goodnight, Tifa," Vincent murmured with a bow of his head.

Tifa smiled playfully with a cock of her head. "Don't you mean good morning?"

Vincent indulged her." Very well. Good morning, Tifa."

"Good morning, Vincent."

Vincent closed his door and Tifa went to her room. But she stopped in the threshold. The nightmare rushed back at her in full force. There would be no sleep to be had in this room. Slowly, Tifa turned and stared down the hall to the empty room where Marlene and Denzel had slept. Allowing herself to move without thought, Tifa reached the doorframe and paused. The rain pattered against the window, and somewhere deep in the bowels of the house, the air conditioning kicked on.

Hesitantly, Tifa let her hand trail along the footboard of the bed Marlene had claimed as her own. She sat on the edge and smoothed out the wrinkles in the comforter, ignoring the painful pricking behind her eyes. Her hands moved of their own accord, peeling back the sheets, guiding her tear-streaked face down to the goose-down pillow. Tifa breathed deeply. It still smelled like Marlene's banana-pineapple shampoo.

Sobs bubbled up from within and Tifa stifled them as best she could in her arms. God, she missed them. She missed her father…she missed her mother. She missed the family she had almost had.

As her sobs faded into hiccups and sniffles, Tifa quieted and listened to the rain hitting the roof. She thought of the shed and a tear rolled down her cheek. But the image of a young Vincent crawling about in a cave came into her mind and a wistful smile parted her lips.

Vincent would probably never know how much it meant that he had shared that story with her. She closed her eyes and slipped into a calm, yet restless, sleep. But her dreams weren't of running; they were of children in jungles and adventures in caves and fighting cannibals with Vincent Valentine at her side.

- O -


	4. Exploration

Exploration

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Mist swirled about the ground in snaky tendrils, the rain from the previous day leaving the air cool and moist. Tifa sipped a cup of hazelnut coffee as she watched the early morning light refract off the dew dappled grass. It was six-thirty in the morning, but she hadn't been able to stay abed for long, opting to start her day with a hot shower and a warm brew. She continued to gaze out the kitchen window her hands robotically stirring a bowl of pancake batter.

Flipping her thick chocolate braid over her shoulder, she turned to the range and began pouring the mix into a huge pan, a satisfied smile on her lips as a pleasing aroma filled the air. It wasn't long before she caught a movement in her peripheral and glanced over her shoulder to see her houseguest leaning against the door frame.

"Good morning," she chirped, flipping the flapjacks over with a spatula. "Looks like I beat you to it today."

Vincent quirked an eyebrow and approached the already set kitchen table. "So it would seem."

Finishing up her cooking and then turning to set a plate full of warm, fluffy buttermilk pancakes on the table, Tifa took a moment to note Vincent's choice of clothing for the day. He was wearing a black, long sleeved t-shirt, a pair of dark-washed denim jeans, and black, slightly worn work boots.

"Jeans?" she asked, dishing him up two of the cakes.

He murmured a thank you and then folded his hands before him, fixing her with a mirth laced gaze. "I thought perhaps these would be more appropriate for the day's activities than my usual attire."

Right…the attic. Tifa sank into her chair, a thoughtful look on her face. "True. I'll have to get in touch with whoever's supervising the restaurant today and let them know I won't be in."

Vincent lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

"I've hired a handful of college students. They're pretty hard workers and they bring a new perspective. A couple of them have good business sense." She paused and her companion waited patiently for her to continue. "I've been having a…stressful week, so I've been taking a few days it off, thought maybe I could get some work done around the house." She smiled brightly at him before taking a bite of syrup soaked pancake. "Turns out I was right."

- O -

The blast of musty, humid air that rolled down with the attic door nearly caused Tifa to stumble backward. Already, the day was heating up, but the temperature had been so comfortable while in the kitchen that it hadn't occurred to her how sweaty this work was going to be. _**Oh well, there's no turning back now.**_

Vincent stepped aside and gestured for her to climb up first; she rewarded his chivalry with a smile. Grabbing hold of the rough wooden ladder, she began her ascent.

Poking her head up into the dark, cavernous space, Tifa clicked on the small silver flashlight she'd stowed in the pocket of her overalls. The tiny light cast ominous shadows along the rafters and it took a moment for her to spot the metal chain hanging a scant arm's reach away. Giving the chain a tug, Tifa blinked as the bare bulb shone down, swirling dust motes reflecting the light.

As Vincent scaled the ladder, Tifa took a few moments to survey the attic, or the parts that she could see. Precariously leaning stacks of cardboard boxes towered nearly to the rafters; crates and trunks with unknown cargo filled the floor below. A slew of bundled, yellowing newspapers littered the space beyond and still further Tifa could make out the silhouettes of piled furniture. The far wall was completely obscured from her view.

Tifa took in a deep breath, the stuffy, mildewed air settling in her lungs like a weight. "Well…this is more…daunting than I thought it would be."

Vincent chuckled, a gentle and altogether pleasing sound. "Perhaps we should begin by bagging up the newspapers."

Tifa smiled, a bead of sweat forging a path down her forehead. "Alright, let's get to it."

And so they did. They filled an entire industrial-sized garbage bag with all the newspapers, some of which dated back nearly seventy years. That particular chore finished, they began to tackle the boxes. Several times, Tifa had to take a break, the mold and disturbed dust making her nose run and eyes water. It took over an hour, but she and Vincent finally finished hauling all of the cardboard boxes and their questionable contents down to the dumpster behind the restaurant.

The duo then set to opening, bagging, and dumping the contents of the crates and trunks, Tifa often pausing to inspect the objects, thoroughly curious about the previous owners of the archaic house that so bewitched her. One particularly heavy trunk, found shoved back into the short space where the sloped ceiling met the floor, contained dozens of glass jars, each labeled a different year, none of which were within the last few decades. Tifa picked up a jar at random, finding it to be filled with a clear liquid. She turned the container over in her hands to see the word "raindrops" written in a graceful cursive.

Replacing the collected raindrops, Tifa decided to leave the trunk where it was. It seemed a shame to toss out such a painstakingly collected compilation.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when they reached the halfway point, the rough planks of the floor now visible. Tifa allowed herself a moment to feel accomplished, letting a fresh breeze blowing in from one of the dormer windows they'd uncovered cool the droplets of sweat gathered on her upper lip and across the bridge of her nose. She turned slightly to watch Vincent as he finished stacking the bits and bobs she had opted to keep up against the wall, marveling at the way his muscles moved beneath the thin, damp fabric of his shirt. She distractedly twirled a strand of her hair as she allowed her greedy eyes to slide up and down his form and bit her lip when he paused to push his sleeves back over his elbows and swiping the glistening beads of perspiration from his face with the back of his hand.

"I see why you requested my help." Vincent stated matter-of-factly, placing his hands on his hips.

"Hm? Oh!" Tifa jerked back into the moment, hoping her face was already red enough from the heat so that he wouldn't see her blush. "Yeah…this is way more than I could have handled."

Tifa approached him, gauging how far they had left to go. She brushed past Vincent and clamored over a mound of broken furniture, having found another window. It stuck at first, but after she slammed the jamb with her elbow, the pane gave, swinging outward. She eagerly filled her lungs with the fresh, pine scented air.

Turning back to Vincent with a contented smile, she noticed him staring off in the direction of the ladder, his head tilted to the side, brows drawn together in concentration…as though he were listening for something.

"Is something the matter, Vincent?" she asked, leaning against a dilapidated chaise lounge.

He remained still another moment and Tifa willed her heartbeat to stop, narrowed her eyes, and strained to hear what had him so vexed. The sound of the breeze flipping the pages of an open book was the only thing that reached her ears.

"It's nothing," he answered finally, his expression betraying a hint of lingering misgivings.

Tifa shrugged. If Vincent wasn't going to clue her in on what had him on edge, she wasn't going to worry about it.

By the time they had cleared most of the remaining junk out, the dumpster was almost full. Of course there were a few antique pieces of furniture Tifa decided to keep, but most of the heap was dragged down the ladder, out the back door and left by the dumpster: a barrel of full broken lawn gnomes, a lamp made out of popsicle sticks, a posse of stuffed squirrels, and a gargantuan wicker head her favorites of the bunch.

It was nearly 3:00 in the afternoon when Tifa finally stood in front of the far wall, her eyes traveling across the huge, ebony wardrobe against it. "Well," she sighed, "This is it." She attempted to pull the doors of the armoire open, but they were stuck tight. Not one to give up easily, especially when she was pitted against an inanimate object, Tifa placed a booted foot against the wall and jerked back on the handles with all her weight.

The doors flew wide open and a dozen black bats burst forth in a flurry of wings and fangs. Tifa shrieked and flailed her arms to keep the creatures from her face, terrified they would get caught in her hair.

Vincent calmly observed as the tiny mammals escaped through a third dormer in the far corner, the glass of which had been broken. He hummed in understanding then turned his attention back to the trembling woman before him.

Tifa flushed scarlet, utterly humiliated by her girly scream. She busied herself with brushing the layer of dust from her clothing. "Well, that was completely horrific."

Vincent arched an eyebrow, mirth tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Oh c'mon! Didn't you see the size of those things?"

Vincent fought to suppress a smirk and lost out. "Yes, and I'm sure the poor creatures will be suffering from post traumatic stress for quite some time."

"Funny," Tifa dead-panned. "I'm all smiles and giggles."

- O -

While Vincent searched for building materials in the shed out back, Tifa washed up and began making the two of them some sandwiches. She had forgiven him for his teasing once he offered to board up the broken window for her. If she was honest, she hadn't truly been upset. She enjoyed Vincent's dry sense of humor and was inwardly thrilled that he felt comfortable enough around her to engage in witty banter.

She looked up from her ministrations when the back door opened and Vincent entered, carrying an armful of two-by-fours. He set his burden in one of the kitchen chairs and regarded her contemplatively. "Tifa?"

"Mm-hmm?" She continued assembling the cold cut, cheese and sourdough sandwiches, licking a blurb of mustard from her thumb.

"While in the attic…did the room seem disproportionate to the rest of the house?"

Finished with her work, Tifa handed an expertly built sandwich to him then leaned back against the counter. "I didn't get that sense. Why? You did?"

Vincent shook his head, the few strands of ebony that had escaped from his ponytail falling in front of his eyes. "Merely an odd observation. I could very well be wrong."

Tifa smiled and took a bit of her own sandwich. "Well, feel free to investigate to your heart's content just so long as you make it so those flying rodents can't get back in.

He met her eyes with his, amusement dancing in their depths. "Agreed."

- O -

A faint pounding echoed through the upstairs hallway and tumbled down the stairs, bringing a warm smile to Tifa's face. She was becoming increasingly fond of having Vincent around. _**Hmm…I'm going to have to think of another reason to keep him around…**_

_Tick!_

Tifa looked up from receipts she had strewn on the kitchen table and turned around in her chair. She had heard some sort of sound…like a pebble striking glass. Rising from her seat, Tifa craned her neck to peer out the window and into the back yard. She couldn't see anyone. Completely prepared to write the incident off, Tifa shrugged and turned back to her finances.

_Click!_

Okay, that time she was **sure** she'd heard it. Tifa crossed to the back door and pushed aside the curtain over the window. Nothing. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Drawing her brows together in confusion, Tifa slowly turned from the door only to hear a solid "thunk" as something larger hit the window above the sink.

Sighing, Tifa remembered how the picture window above the sink seemed to be a common target for birds hoping to get inside. Opening the back door and leaning out, she scanned the ground for any downed sparrows. Once again, she found absolutely nothing. Pausing to listen for anything suspicious, Tifa placed her hands on her hips. A breeze rustled the leaves of the densely wooded forest…the old grandfather clock in the front room ticked hollowly…somewhere far off, a hound bayed; nothing out of the ordinary.

The rhythmic pounding from the attic stopped, and Tifa turned to go back inside. Vincent's uneasiness was starting to get to her.

Suddenly, something hard collided with the back of Tifa's skull. Reeling, she tried to grab hold of the doorframe, but her vision was blurring at the edges. She missed her target completely and tumbled headlong into the kitchen, her flailing arms knocking a glass tumbler from the counter to shatter on the floor, head smacking painfully against the tile. The last thing Tifa was aware of before she lost consciousness was the pounding of Vincent's boots as he raced down the steps.

- O -

Pain, a throbbing ache that made all else obsolete, filled Tifa's senses as she regained awareness. "Ugh..."

She lifted a trembling hand to her forehead, her fingertips brushing rough cloth. "Dammit." She opened her eyes. Everything was fuzzy at first, but her sight slowly adjusted; it was mercifully dark. Rain was once again tapping the window pane. Tifa groaned again, louder this time.

With a faint whisper of fabric, a silhouette appeared above her. "Tifa, can you tell me where you are?"

"I'm…ugh, I'm in my room. Vincent?" Even in the darkness, she could see the intensity of his eyes. "What happened?"

Vincent reached over to the nightstand and picked up a blood-stained rock. He held it out to her. It was the size of her fist.

"Someone threw a rock at me?" Tifa was not in too much pain to be absolutely livid. "Why the hell would someone do that?"

Vincent's expression hardened, if only slightly. He handed her a glass of water and three small, brown pills. "Take these, they will ease the pain."

Tifa obeyed and then looked up at him. "You did this, didn't you?" She motioned to the bandage.

"Yes. You have a minor cut on the back of your head and some bruising on your face. Mostly, your pain will be from the concussion."

Tifa smiled weakly. "You sound like a doctor." She tried to sit up, but thought better of it when the room started to spin. "Did you see who it was that did this?" Inching into a sitting position, she propped herself up against her pillows.

Vincent looked out the window at nothing in particular and spoke very softly. "I'm afraid that this incident is my fault."

"Don't be ridiculous. You didn't throw this rock at me."

Vincent didn't meet her eyes. "Tifa, there are some very dangerous men who are very unhappy with me right now." He looked down. "I did not mean to bring this to your doorstep."

"Look Vincent, it's not your fault someone pegged me with a rock. Anyway, how can you know it was these 'dangerous men' and not some kid?"

Vincent reached into his pocket and produced a crumpled piece of paper. He held it out to her.

"What's this?"

He gestured for her to read it. She unfolded it slowly and strained to make sense of the scrawling penmanship. She reached over and turned on her bedside lamp.

**Valentine,**

**You can't hide from us. We want what you have taken. Since you failed to deliver it when we asked so very nicely you have forced us into an awfully bad mood. You say that you have nothing to lose. What about your lady bartender friend? Think of her. Make the wise choice. Give us what is ours. We'll be in touch.**

**K.**

Tifa was more confused than angry. "What is this? What exactly is this thing that they say you took?"

"An object of great value."

_**A characteristically vague answer**__. _"Did you?"

"No." Vincent clenched his hands into fists. "I should never have come here."

Tifa grimaced, crossing her arms over her chest. "Vincent, this K's empty threats don't scare me. They won't hurt me."

Vincent turned to her. His jaw set, eyes blazing. "Just like they didn't hurt you tonight?"

"I wasn't aware that I was in any danger, otherwise I would've been more careful." Tifa had to stop and force the irritation from her voice. Head injuries made her cranky. Then, a thought occurred to her. "The 'altercation' a few days back…that was because of these guys, wasn't it?"

He nodded grimly in reply.

Frustration was working its way back into her words. "So why didn't you tell me so then?"

"I did not wish to concern you."

"Well, it certainly concerns me now!" Dropping her head in her hand, Tifa pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, I'm sorry I snapped. It's just…well, what do we do now?"

Vincent lowered himself onto the edge of her bed. "I don't know." He looked up into her eyes; the fire had left them and now some other emotion had seeped in. "Now that they know who and where you are, I cannot leave you here alone."

Tifa heaved a sigh and gently massaged her temples. "That's fine with me, Vincent, but do you really think these people will just let you stay here in peace. Have you told them you don't have what they're looking for?"

"I have." Vincent raked his fingers through his loose ebony locks. "I had planned on simply lying low until the object turned up and my name was cleared. But now…" He plucked a cell phone out of his pocket of his jeans. "I'll just have to stop them before they can do any more damage."

Tifa blinked, dropping her hands limply into her lap as she tried to absorb this new information into her scrambled brain. "These wouldn't happen to be the gun-toting, kill-babies kind of bad guys, would they?"

The look Vincent turned to her was utterly devoid of emotion, his deep baritone voice taking on a dark edge. "The very kind."

"I was afraid of that." She bit her lip as a wave of dizziness came over her and opted to lie back down. Hearing the musical beeps of a phone dialing, she opened an eye and trained it on her silent companion. "Who are you calling?"

Vincent grimaced. "Back-up."

- O -

7


	5. Treasures Past and Present

Treasures: Past and Present

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Tifa awoke to the sound of pounding rain and muffled giggles. The thudding in her head had subsided leaving behind a dull ache. Feeling movement on the bed next to her, she cracked open an eye.

"Shhh!" More hushed titters… "You'll wake her up!"

A wide grin split Tifa's face as she sat up abruptly, causing the two girls on her bed to start. "Wake who up, Marlene?"

"Tifa!" The young girl practically launched herself across the mattress, capturing Tifa's abdomen in a hug. "I'm so glad you're alright! We were scared, weren't we, Yuffie?"

The older brunette smiled and waved her off. "Pfft! I wouldn't say scared. Maybe worried."

Marlene let go and leaned back to look Tifa up and down before stating matter-of-factly, "Yuffie cried."

"What!? Did not, you little brat!" She scooped the child up into her lap and proceeded to give her a playful noogie.

"Ack! No! I'm going to tell Daddy!"

Tifa laughed at the girls' antics and leaned over to fold both of them into an embrace. "I missed you two so much!" She placed a gentle kiss on the crown of Marlene's head before releasing them. "But what are you doing here?"

"Daddy got a phone call from Mister Vincent. He said you were hurt and needed help and Daddy was gonna make me stay at home but I told him-"

"She told him that if you were in trouble, it wouldn't be fair to leave her at home," Yuffie interrupted with a grin. "Isn't she just adorable?"

"I was telling the story," Marlene frowned, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff.

"Sorry, Marlene…go ahead."

The young girl instantly brightened. "So he said both me and Denzel could come with him. And on the way here we stopped for waffles. And I brought Stripes to help you feel better. He always makes me feel better." At this, Marlene reached behind Yuffie and brought out her favorite stuffed tiger, its once bright orange fur a now dingy brown from years of washing.

Tifa felt her lip quiver as she accepted the offered doll. She gave it a squeeze and a long emphasized kiss before handing it back. "Wow!" She gasped to the expectant child. "It really worked! I feel so much better now!"

Marlene beamed. "I knew you would. Denzel said I was being silly but I told him he was the one who was silly!"

"Hey!" Yuffie protested as the girl crawled over her lap and hopped off the bed. "You could just get off on the other side."

Marlene ignored her. "He and Daddy are downstairs with Uncle Cid and Aunt Shera and Mr. Vincent."

"Cid and Shera are here too?" Tifa untangled her legs from the sheets and pushed her sore body out of bed.

Marlene nodded vehemently, her wide brown eyes glimmering in the lamplight.

"Red's here too," Yuffie added, stretching before rolling over onto her belly, her feet in the air behind her. "Everyone's being extra quiet, though, so you can sleep. Vincent was all frowny when I got here so I've been hanging with Mar."

"Marlene." The girl corrected.

"Whatever."

Tifa's smile only broadened, heart light in her chest. "Well, let me get changed and then we can go say hi!"

- O -

Marlene led Tifa down the stairs by her hand, letting go in order to hop the last step.

Cid, who was engaged in a game of chess with Vincent, was the first to look up. "Well, now! Look who's finally awake! It's three o'clock in the afternoon, ya know?"

"Cut her some slack, ya old codger," laughed Barret from his place on the couch next to Nanaki. "Head injuries tend ta have that effect on people." He lifted his bulk from the sofa and approached Tifa with out-stretched arms. "Feelin' better, Tifa girl?"

Tifa embraced her old friend with a chuckle. "Much, thanks to Stripes."

Cid, who had also risen from his seat, pulled the toothpick he was gnawing on from his mouth. "What?"

Barret guffawed and plucked Marlene up from the floor, placing her on his shoulders. "That's my girl!"

Shrugging, Cid pulled Tifa into a hug, his scraggly beard tickling her ear. "Glad yer back on yer feet, Tifa. Shera's been near burstin' with worry."

"Now don't you believe a word he says," Shera interrupted as she entered the main room, a tray of steaming teacups balanced on one hand and a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the other. "My old man has been worrying enough for the both of us." She set her burdens down and motioned Tifa over for an embrace which was graciously given despite the fact that Shera's prominent belly made the hug awkward.

"It's so good to see you," Tifa sighed. "How's the baby doing?"

"Healthy as a horse," Shera flexed her arms for emphasis. "I've been making sure Cid doesn't smoke around me."

"Damn near killin' me," the pilot interjected with a grimace, but then smiled proudly as he draped an arm over his wife's shoulders. "But as long as I can still have tea, it'll be okay." He kissed her cheek and then lifted a cup and saucer from the silver tray on the side table.

A soft muzzle nudged Tifa's hand and she knelt down to Nanaki's level, giving his ears a hearty scratch. "Good to see you too, Red. It's been a while."

"Too long," Nanaki replied with a shake of his mane, jingling the braided ornaments therein. "And I fear the circumstances aren't ideal."

Tifa stood up once more and scanned the room, her eyes settling fondly upon the young boy reading a comic book in the wingback chair by the fireplace. She crossed over to him and cleared her throat, causing him to look up and meet her gaze. "Hello, Denzel."

Denzel's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Hi, Tifa. Glad you're better."

She patted him on the head as he went back to reading, heart twisting painfully in her chest. Denzel had never been the same since Cloud abandoned them. In fact, he was the one who had taken the loss the hardest. It was one more reason Tifa resented Cloud so very much.

Yuffie, who sat cross-legged in a chair she had brought in from the kitchen, coughed pointedly. "So, Vincent. You said you'd tell us what was up once Tifa was awake." She took a cookie from the stack in her lap and nearly devoured the whole thing in one bite. "Wanna enlighten us now?"

Marlene frowned from her exalted position. "Don't talk with your mouth full Yuffie."

The ninja rolled her eyes.

For the first time since she had joined the party, Tifa was aware of Vincent's presence. She felt a stab of guilt at her forgetfulness, but she was so overwhelmed by the presence of so many loved ones, the feeling quickly faded. "What are we talking about now?"

Vincent, who hadn't even risen from his seat in the second wing-back, motioned for the group to sit.

After placing Marlene on the floor, Barret addressed both the children. "Ya'll need to go upstairs now, okay?"

Marlene sighed but agreed and Denzel rose from his chair, collected his possessions, and crossed to the stairs without meeting the eyes of anyone in the room.

The door to the children's room upstairs snicked shut and Tifa turned her attention to Vincent, letting herself sink into the cushion of the couch nearest to him. Shera and Cid took the other two, Barret the second chair, and Nanaki settled himself on the floor next to the coffee table.

Jaw set, Vincent drew in a deep breath, his eyes falling shut. "I would not have called you all here unless the matter was of the utmost importance and I would like to premise by saying that I had every intention of dealing with the situation on my own." His eyes flicked open at this and instantly locked on to Tifa's. "But now I have dragged this danger to Tifa's doorstep." Vincent's severe gaze dropped away and Tifa instantly felt cold. "It is for her sake that you are here."

Cid poured himself a second cup of tea, fingers twitching visibly as they passed by the pack of Chesterfields tucked behind his goggles strap. "What kinda danger are we talkin' about here?"

"Are any of you familiar with term 'Darknation'?"

Yuffie made a strangled sound and began to cough violently, fist pounding her chest. Barret uttered a curse.

"What?" Tifa asked worriedly, gaze shifting back and forth between all the members of the group. "What's a dark nation?"

"Not what…who," Barret growled. He looked to Vincent, who motioned for him to continue. "And nobody really knows who they are." The black man's rumbling voice dropped several decibels as he spoke, almost as though he feared being overheard. "They mostly operate in the city, fixin' elections and organizing hits and stuff like that. These guys are bad news, Tif."

Yuffie, the coughs that had been racking her body dying out, leaned forward in her chair, eyes watering. "I've heard of these Darknation guys. A lot, actually, since I run with people in the thieving business." She cleared her throat with a frown before continuing. "You could say they're like a gang, except none of them ever show their faces. They wear dark robes with masks…and they could be anybody…but the scariest part is that even when everyone knows it was them that did something, no one can prove it. They're like ghosts."

Barret snorted, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. "More like murderers. They've had the city under their thumb for years now, give their 'orders' by video. Anyone who gets in their way ends up in the river wearin' cement shoes."

"Sound like a buncha pansy asses to me," Cid scoffed, earning a light elbow to the ribs from his wife.

Vincent fixed the pilot with a grimace. "'Pansy asses' or no, they pose a genuine threat predominately due to their anonymity. Their leader, known as Kale, is the one who addresses these video recordings. None of the others even have aliases."

"So…" Tifa ventured carefully planning her words. "Are they who you had the 'altercation' with?"

Vincent's reply was succinct. "Yes."

"Because they think you stole something of theirs?"

Steepling his fingers before his nose, Vincent answered gravely. "Yes. In fact, I had intended to."

This statement was met by perplexity all around. Yuffie stifled a rogue cough. Cid fidgeted.

Vincent took another deep breath and continued.

"For the past two years I have been working free-lance for numerous employers. My usual assignment ranges from gathering information to protection services. Compensation is usually…impressive, and it is fair to say that I have made a bit of a reputation for myself in certain circles." He paused and messaged the bridge of his nose.

"About two weeks ago I received a call from one such potential employer. He requested I meet him in his private room at an exclusive club so he could discuss a prospective assignment with me. When I met him, he introduced himself as Thomas Warren and offered me a drink.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"Please, Mr. Valentine, take a seat." Thomas gestured with an outstretched palm.

Vincent nodded curtly, and sat across from him, ever wary of his surroundings. He removed his sunglasses and crossed his arms expectantly. As the man ordered them drinks, Vincent took the opportunity to study his potential employer. He was a stocky man with a thick neck and red cheeks, perhaps in his late forties. His fine clothing and lavish adornment suggested considerable wealth and his graying, chestnut hair was very well groomed. Vincent noted his meticulously plucked eyebrows and manicured nails. Clearly this was not a humble man.

After the waiter exited the room, Thomas smiled in a way meant to seem congenial, but Vincent detected no congeniality whatsoever.

The man lifted a ringed finger to his chin and sat back in his chair. "No doubt you are curious as to what my business with you is. Well, I won't waste your time beating around the bush." He removed a photograph from the alligator skin briefcase sitting in front of him on the table and slid it to Vincent.

Vincent dropped his gaze to the image. It was of a small, round, golden talisman with a cut red stone in the center. It was sitting on what appeared to be a green, velvet backdrop. All around the outside of the talisman were markings in some ancient dialect and an etched design that resembled a snake curving around to eat his own tail.

While Vincent surveyed the image, Thomas continued. "This talisman was once part of my personal collection of rare and valuable artifacts." He took the photo and replaced it in his briefcase. "Just two days ago, it was stolen from my home." The waiter came in and set two glasses and a bottle of wine on the table. Expensive wine, Vincent observed.

"Thank you," Thomas said, and the waiter exited.

Vincent ignored the offered drink. "Perhaps you should be speaking with the police. Retrieving lost items is not in my area of expertise."

Thomas sipped his wine. "Ah, now, you see, I cannot alert the authorities; it would do no good. I already know who stole it."

Vincent glanced at his watch. "Then I do not see how I can be of use to you."

"Hm." Thomas leaned forward and his cold, gray eyes hardened though his smile remained in place. "It was taken by a society known as Darknation."

Vincent's brows lowered, his mouth forming a hard line.

"No doubt you have heard of them, Mr. Valentine. It is highly unlikely that my property will be returned. Do you understand my dilemma?"

Vincent locked eyes with Thomas. "I have heard enough to know that only a fool would take such a job."

Thomas pulled a manila envelope from his briefcase and slid it to Vincent, completely ignoring his statement. "These are the floor plans to the building where they are holding my artifact along with directions on how to get there. Word has it you have a talent for being…unseen."

"Perhaps I was not clear. This is a fool's errand, Mr. Warren. And you are wasting my time."

The man's thin lips curved into smile as he lifted his wineglass to his lips and took a sip, savoring the liquid as he rolled it across his tongue. After swallowing he hummed in appreciation. "I am a man of fine tastes, Mr. Valentine. I crave quality, only buy the very best. I do not suffer fools and I do not settle. And with my fortune, I shall never have to. Thomas pulled a check out of his briefcase, laying it on the table and smoothing it out with his hands.

"This is a check for one hundred thousand Gil, Mr. Valentine, and that is only the first half. If you succeed, there is another hundred thousand that awaits you."

Vincent scanned the slip of paper. This was a great deal of money.

Warren seemed to take his silence for indecision. "You see, Mr. Valentine, you are the best there is, and I will accept no less than the best."

Vincent mulled over the man's words. Had the job involved any party but Darknation, Vincent would've turned Warren down simply due to his aversion to the man. But…the prospect of a real challenge was extremely tempting. Finally, he fixed the man with a contemptuous glare. "What are your terms?"

"Only this: return my talisman to me. It is priceless and money is no object. I care not what methods you use, just do so as quickly and as quietly as possible." He sat back and a sickeningly confident expression settling in on his face. Vincent had to resist the urge to remove it.

Not the look, but his face. His dislike for this man was increasing exponentially.

"Four-hundred thousand," Vincent stated, hands folded on the table top. "Two now, two after. In cash."

Thomas smiled, revealing a row of perfectly white, overly-large teeth. "I thought you might prefer to have cash in hand." He collected the various papers from the table and opened his briefcase wide, turning it so Vincent could see inside. "Two-hundred thousand Gil," he stated with a flourish as he placed the floor plans on top along with a business card. "You can reach me at this address. When the guard asks for identification, simply show him this card."

He then stood, clicking the briefcase shut. Vincent stood as well. "Do not come unless you have brought my artifact. I enjoy the sanctity of my home and do not like to be disturbed."

Eager to take leave of this vile man, Vincent nodded curtly. He took hold of the case's handle and turned to leave. Warren pulled aside the curtain separating them from the rest of the club, but instead of ushering Vincent out, he leaned in close, his voice low, breath sickeningly sweet. "I sincerely hope you do not fail, Mr. Valentine. It would be such a shame to besmirch so promising a record."

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Vincent finished his retelling of the events, dark eyes fixed on the dancing flames in the fireplace. A heavy silence settled like thick fog and Tifa cast her eyes about to observe her companions' expressions. Cid gnawed his mangled toothpick with renewed fervor while Shera picked pointedly at the fringe of her sleeve. Barret's breaths came out in great gusts, his nostrils flaring, eyes squeezed shut. Red met her questioning gaze with a shrug; head cocked and tail swishing, careful to avoid singeing the area rug beneath him.

Yuffie was the first to venture into the pregnant pause. "So…" Her brows knit together in impatience. "Then what happened?"

Her words seemed to break the spell. Cid gave a low whistle as he leaned back into the cushions. "Four-hundred thousand Gil. That **is** pretty impressive. You have some expensive vice I don't know about?"

Vincent ignored the quip, the invisible aura around him becoming increasingly darker. Tifa doubted Cid noticed. Barret opened his eyes and fixed a withering glare on the gunman. "So ya stole the jewelry from Darknation and now they want it back."

Tifa could see the muscles along Vincent's jaw tense. "Vincent didn't steal anything," she answered more firmly than she'd meant to. All eyes turned to her and she swallowed hard; the room was suddenly very, very warm. She looked to Vincent for help, attempting to keep from flushing any redder. He was watching her with that steady gaze, eyes devoid of any namable emotion.

The seconds of silence that followed were painfully long, but at last Vincent turned his crimson eyes back to the fire. "Tifa is correct. After careful research I found Warren's information to be accurate. I had managed to infiltrate the target, but on the night my plans were to come to fruition, the artifact was no longer on the premises."

Yuffie gasped, a little too excitedly. "Someone beat you to it? Whoa! That has totally happened to me before."

Tifa cast a quick grimace at the thief before replying. "Did they know you were coming?"

"I doubt it," Vincent responded, eyes still trained on the flames licking the blackened stone of the fireplace. "My methods are thorough. I'm afraid that it is just as Yuffie says. Person or persons unknown had stolen the relic long before I arrived on the scene. The entire premises was up in alarm. I didn't even enter the building."

"The next morning, I went directly to Thomas Warren's estate only to find the place a din of lights and sirens."

"Oh yeah," Yuffie interrupted in realization. "I heard about his from a friend. There was a fire, right? Almost took the entire place down." She shook her head and tutted. "Shame about all that treasure. I heard that guy had some nice stuff."

"Just so." Vincent responded succinctly. "Warren perished in the fire. The official police report called it an accident; a malfunction of the wiring."

"But you suspect foul play."

"I am no fool, Miss Kisaragi." The response was nearly hissed through clenched teeth. "Darknation was undoubtedly involved. And somehow, they learned of my employment."

Yuffie was unabashed by the reproach. "Well, why not just tell them it wasn't you."

Barret snorted and crossed his huge arms over his chest. "I imagine that went well."

Vincent's right hand settled over his left forearm where he had been injured just three nights ago. "It did not."

Yuffie rose from her seat. "Do you still have the picture of the talisman?"

Vincent gestured dismissively toward his duffel. "Front pouch."

"So," Barret grumbled. "That's why Tifa's in danger now? Because of this job gone wrong? Damn."

"Darknation must not have found the Talisman at Warren's place," Tifa chimed in. A dull ache had begun to form behind her eyes. "…now what do we do?"

She was answered by a squeak from Yuffie. "I know this piece," she proclaimed excitedly, brandishing a small photograph before flopping back into her chair. "It's solid gold and the rock in the center is called a bloodstone. People in the old times used to think they had supernatural powers." She chuckled to herself as she slid an affectionate finger across the image. "Not that it matters if it really did. They're still **super** valuable. I heard about some archaeologists stumbling across a relic like this. I'm thinking it was the same one."

The young ninja looked up to see that the entire party was staring at her and the smile froze on her face. "Oh…did I interrupt you guys or something?"

"You don't miss a thing, do ya," Cid smirked and leaned towards Barret. "A regular detective, this one."

Yuffie bristled. "Why don't you come closer and say that again, old man."

Shera cleared her throat, effectively silencing the two and proceeded to pour herself another cup tea. "Anyway. That's why you called us here, right? To help keep Tifa safe until we get out of this mess sorted out?"

"Yes." Vincent leaned forward, lifting his gaze to settle directly on Tifa. "By any means necessary."

- O -

7


	6. Small Miracles

Small Miracles

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"Is it _**ever**_ going to stop raining?" Yuffie moaned, forehead pressed up against back door, arms limply hanging at her sides.

"Probably," Tifa responded with a smile, eyes following the potato she deftly sliced. "Though I doubt whining at the window will coax the clouds into submission."

Shera hummed in agreement, the sharp chop-chopping of her knife on the cutting board echoing through the kitchen. She paused in her work and swept her pile of sliced carrots to one side. "A watched pot never boils, Yuffie. But you can come help me shell these peas if you're bored."

The young brunette pushed herself away from the door and lurched across the tiled floor. "I don't wanna shell peas," she muttered as she plopped down into a wooden chair to do just that.

Tifa chuckled as she dropped the last bit of diced potato into the metal mixing bowl wedged between her knees. "Sometimes, Yuffie, we have to do things we don't want to." She stood, lifting the bowl in one arm and set a basket of fresh peas in the ninja's lap. "Now shell."

"Can I cut the next carrot, Aunt Shera?" Marlene had volunteered to toss a homemade salad with two comically long-handled spoons, but had apparently grown tired of the task. She nudged at the older woman's arm expectantly.

"Here, Marlene, why don't you help me slice some celery." With her free hand, Tifa pulled a second wooden cutting board from the drying rack by the sink. "Do you know how?"

"Yup!" the girl replied, reaching for a cleaver that jutted out from the knife block in front of her.

"Oh no, honey," Shera replied quickly as she stopped Marlene's hand. "Here, use this one." She passed the girl a paring knife, shooting Tifa an amused smile.

"But it's so small." Marlene pouted until Shera began to demonstrate how to slice correctly. The girl beamed when she took the knife in hand and made her first cut. "See, Tifa? I'm doing it!"

Tifa kissed her on the cheek. "You sure are, sweetie." After placing her burden on the counter she wiped her hands off on a ragged dishtowel and began to dice a small white onion. "So, Shera, you were telling me about Cid's new business venture."

"Well, Cid had had his eye on the old machine shop in town for some time now and he finally convinced the owner to sell a couple of months ago." Shera continued as she began to carve a considerable hunk of raw chuck roast into bite-size pieces. "After hiring a few mechanics he was able to expand the business from merely selling parts to doing repairs and the like. He's pleased as punch with the whole affair, though he would most likely call it nuisance if asked." She smiled gently to herself and paused to gather the meat and sprinkle it with a mixture of salt, pepper, and flour

"It all sounds very thrilling," Yuffie averred in monotone.

Shera ignored the jibe gracefully, moving to the stove. "So what have you been up to recently, Yuffie?"

"Oh, you know…this and that." The young ninja grinned cheekily and put her bowl aside. "But don't worry. I've been behaving myself…more or less."

Marlene finished in her careful cutting and turned, eager to join the conversation. "Yuffie was in town visiting friends and asked Daddy if she could stay over a few days."

"These 'friends' wouldn't happen to be the thieving kind?" Tifa asked, gathering the celery and carrots into a heaping pile and bringing the entire cutting board to Shera.

"No. Well, not currently anyway. We mostly just get together to have a few drinks and talk treasure."

Shera snorted over the sound of her sizzling beef and browning vegetables. "Like alcoholics getting together to discuss whiskey."

Tifa let loose a bark of laughter and Yuffie gave an exaggerated shrug. "Fair point," she grinned. "But at least _**my**_ vice won't kill me."

- O -

Tentative digits danced above the pair of cards held in Cid's hand. The pilot huffed out an impatient sigh. "C'mon, Spitfire, you're burnin' daylight."

Yuffie, who had been biting her lip in concentration, met Cid's gaze, brows drawn in a powerful frown. "Don't rush me, old man." She lightly brushed the edge of the right and then the left card, alternating between studying his face through squinted lids and attempting to psychically divine his hand through sheer force of will.

"It's night now, Uncle Cid," Marlene stated matter-of-factly, legs cross as she sorted through the pile of paired off cards in front of her. "And Yuffie just doesn't want to be the old maid again."

Tifa stifled a snigger as Yuffie briefly turned the full intensity of her grimace on the oblivious seven year old. She and Barret had opted out of this round of old maid, owning that five hands were more than enough. Yuffie, however, was determined to break her losing streak and had bullied Cid into three more rounds, though it hadn't taken much effort on her part. Marlene was along for the ride, thrilled to be in the league with the adults.

A wistful smile parted Tifa's lips as she gazed contently into the fire blazing in the great stone hearth, lazily tracing circles across the coarse thread of the area rug beneath them. Supper had been fantastic. Not because Shera was an excellent cook, though that was most certainly an accepted truth, but because there were so many mouths to feed, so many precious bodies to cram into the empty spaces that had previously been filled with regret and pain.

They ran out of garlic bread and Tifa had gone rifling through the cabinets only to find a stale half-loaf of sliced sourdough, which was converted into sourdough toast and consumed almost as quickly.

Cid and Yuffie played tug-of-war with the salad spoons, toppling Marlene's orange juice in the process. Plates were lifted, condiments relocated, and a dozen hands hurriedly mopped at the pulpy liquid steadily spreading across the ancient mahogany table Tifa had so delightedly discovered in the spare room.

Denzel picked the peas out of his stew, despite Yuffie's complaints that he was negating all her hard work. Cid accidently set his elbow in the butter, failing to notice until he'd successfully greased the entire side of his jacket. Shera felt the baby kick. Red told a corny joke.

And all throughout, Tifa had giggled and grinned, cajoled and teased. It was all so chaotic and unplanned and blissfully, inherently normal. Laughter drowned out the torrential rain and washed through her like pounding surf, overwhelming and emancipating all at once. Each smile freely given, each accidental brush of skin, each playful nudge and guileless jibe; they were a balm on her spirit.

Suddenly, Tifa was yanked from her reverie as Yuffie cleared her throat emphatically. "Alright! I have come to a decision!"

"Finally!" Cid groused, a new toothpick balanced precariously on his lip.

Barret, who had been seated on the couch behind Tifa, leaned forward, apparently having been awoken from a catnap. "Spirits, ya'll are still playing?"

Marlene crawled up onto the couch and nuzzled her father's arm, wrapping thin arms around his middle. "Almost done, Daddy."

Yuffie sighed, brushed her bangs from her eyes and, with a flourish, reached for the left card only to have Cid pull away, her fingers closing on thin air. "Hey, what's the big idea?" she squawked hotly.

"Yer takin' so long my hand's crampin' up." The pilot switched the cards to his left hand, shaking out and stretching the right. "There. That's much better."

The young ninja simply stared, eyes nearly bulging from her head as they flicked from one card to the other. Then suddenly they narrowed and she leaned forward, knuckles white as she gripped the corner of the woolen blanket she had draped across her shoulders. "You did that on purpose, you crusty, reeking sonovabitch."

"You shouldn't curse," Marlene interjected quietly, face buried in Barret's chest.

Cid smirked. "Yeah, princess. There are kids in the room, after all."

Utterly amused, it seemed to Tifa as though every muscle in Yuffie's body was coiled and ready to launch her at the blonde pilot. _**Maybe I should interject…**_

"Just pick a damn card, already!" Barret half-whispered, half-growled. He murmured an apology to his daughter as she admonished him wordlessly.

Yuffie fixed him with a withering glare and snatched a card from Cid's outstretched hand without so much as a glance back. She huffed and then dropped her gaze.

Everyone else remained perfectly still as the Wutai warrior sat stone-faced, her ears and neck reddening. She let out a long breath through her nose and let her eyes fall shut. Tifa looked from Barret to a shrugging Cid and then returned her attentions to Yuffie as the thief slowly set down her cards and opened her eyes.

"You okay?" Tifa asked, genuine concern etched in the lines of her face.

"Yes," the girl locked eyes with her and flipped the cards face up to reveal a pair of twos. "More than fine!" she beamed.

Tifa snickered as Cid tossed his card to the floor and the Queen of Hearts stared longingly up at the ceiling. "Pretty convincing acting there, Yuf."

Yuffie sat a bit straighter and grinned while suppressing a yawn, her expression morphing almost into a feral snarl with the strain. "I've been practicing my bluff. I'm getting better but what I really need to work on is calling other people on theirs. Cid here's good practice."

The pilot groaned as he hoisted himself up off the floor. "Well, it was a pleasure stompin' you at cards, but I think I'm gonna head to bed. The missus is probably already asleep."

"I beat you, Cid."

"Yeah. Sure. One out of eight. Quite the streak." He nodded to Barret, who was rising with Marlene in his arms and then saluted Tifa. "G'night, Tif. Get some sleep, okay?"

Tifa helped the ninja to her feet as the girl stuck out her tongue at the pilot's retreating back. "So," she chuckled. "You and Marlene want to join me in the big bed tonight?"

The young girl hummed an affirmative from her father's embrace and Yuffie smiled tiredly. "Sounds good to me. C'mere, Mar."

"I told you not to call me that," Marlene objected dourly as she allowed herself to be transferred to Yuffie's outstretched arms.

"Yeah, whatever."

- O -

The first time Tifa woke, it was half past eleven. Yuffie, dynamic even in sleep, had somehow managed to take up half of the oversized king mattress, her knee wedged firmly against Tifa's back. After a series of calculatedly miniscule movements, Tifa was able to maneuver herself away before turning over to face the ninja with her cheek propped against her hand. Gently, she reached out and smoothed a few dark stands of hair from the girl's face, idly wondering at the peaceful expression on her face.

Thunder rumbled somewhere far off and Tifa rolled onto her back, gaze settling blankly on the pool of shadow that engulfed the paneled ceiling. She allowed the steady thudding of rain to lull her back into slumber.

The second time, she was roused by a groggy whisper. "Tifa…"

"Hm," she replied, opening sleep-heavy eyes. She looked down to find Marlene's arm draped across her middle and reached up to stroke the young-girl's face. "What is it, Sweetie."

Marlene leaned into the caress before answering, her half-lidded eyes glinting in the dark. "I'm thirsty. But I'm scared to go downstairs."

Tifa smiled sleepily, breathing in the girl's strawberry and lilac scent. She had insisted on sampling Tifa's various lotions before bed. "That's okay, Marlene. I'll get some for you."

After a bit of finagling, Tifa was able to get free of the twisted sheets and straining comforter and shifted her weight as she crawled over Marlene so as not to smush the girl. Sliding off the edge of the bed, she searched her slippers with her foot, finally finding them beneath the footboard. She tugged them on over her already chilly toes and shuffled wearily to the door.

Making sure not to close it all the way, Tifa pulled on the robe she'd grabbed from the hook on the back of the door. Darkness shrouded the hall, emanating up from the lower level and congealing in the corners. She was still able to make out silhouettes, however, so with a yawn Tifa made her way to the stairs and descended as silently as she could manage. Luckily, the sound of the rain was enough to drown out the groans of the ancient staircase.

Upon reaching the bottom, Tifa paused to glance into the living room where Red XIII slept on the couch beneath a plush blanket and Vincent on a cot they had dragged from the spare room to set up on the floor. She couldn't see either of her friends in the blackness, but could feel their presence nonetheless. That and she could hear Red's half-purred snoring.

She then passed noiselessly into the kitchen and made her way to the cabinet which held the glasses. Raindrops pattered hollowly against the picture window above the sink and Tifa could almost make out a tune as she filled a small plastic cup with water. Finished with the task, she turned around and nearly jumped out of her skin as one of the shadows in the room moved.

"My apologies, Tifa. I did not intend to frighten you."

Tifa's heart raced as she mopped the water that had sloshed from the glass off her arm with the corner of her robe. "You never do, Vincent. But you're still very good at it."

She could almost hear his smirk. "So it would seem."

Now that she knew he was there, Tifa could plainly make out Vincent's form where he sat at the table, bathed in shadow. She crossed over and lowered her drowsy body into the chair next to him. She gestured to the now half-empty cup in her hand. "Marlene was thirsty," she said by way of explanation.

"I see."

Tifa waited a beat before asking, "Couldn't sleep?"

A pause. "I heard you come down the stairs."

"Oh…well, I'm sorry I woke you."

It seemed an hour they sat that way, facing each other in the darkness without making eye contact, before Vincent spoke.

"Tifa...I…want to apologize."

She looked up at him then and found him staring off to her left somewhere as he continued haltingly.

"You were right, I should have told you of the danger you were in." Then he shook his head and met her eyes. "No. I should never have come here to begin with."

Tifa placed Marlene's water on the table and tried her best not to interrupt.

"It was my hubris that brought this to your doorstep." He broke eye-contact and Tifa realized she'd been holding her breath. "I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I-"

Tifa held up a cautionary finger, mouth set in a firm line. "Vincent, don't. Don't do that."

His eyebrow raised and he started again. "I-"

"I know what you'll say, Vincent. And I'm telling you not to say it."

He set his jaw then, stiffening in his chair. "You will not accept my apology?"

"Oh, I accept your apology alright, but I won't listen to you sit there and self-deprecate. And you know what? I'm **not** sorry you came here."

He was looking straight at her, brows drawn in a grimace. But he was listening. _**And I'll be damned if I stop now.**_

"It's been awful living here on my own. This house is huge and old and empty and full of memories that are just always **there** reminding me how alone I am. I've just been living each day like the last, waiting for something to happen, for some spark to catch. And Vincent…" She leaned forward and covered his hand with her own. "If you hadn't come…I'd still be waiting."

"So if you really, truly want to make it up to me, please…don't regret that."

Tifa gazed up into his face searching for any betrayal of emotion, trying to ignore the way his fingers twitched beneath her palm. She was used to this: used to giving pep talks and admonitions. But Vincent didn't turn away, didn't make excuses, didn't shrug off her touch. He simply watched her, an indiscernible fire smoldering in his eyes. He was letting her finish. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

**That**,she was not used to.

"You're not omnipotent, Vincent. Maybe you had a hunch, but you didn't know what would happen. And if you spend your time fixating on things you can't control…you miss out on the things you can."

Familiar hot pinpricks formed behind her eyes, threatening tears, but she steeled herself to them, concentrating to keep a quaver from her voice. "As to your apology? I forgave you the instant you told me. All that's left is for you to forgive yourself."

All right. That was it. She had said her piece. But with every second that ticked by she was becoming acutely more aware of their proximity to one another: the rise and fall of his chest, the soft gusts of breath through his nostrils, the way her hand tingled where her skin touched his.

Finally, Vincent spoke expression somehow softening, though Tifa couldn't have described it if you asked.

"Thank you."

Tifa smiled then, more with relief than anything else. "Of course, Vincent. What are friends for?" She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before sitting up in her chair. She didn't remove it though. For some reason, she wasn't willing to pull away just yet.

"So, I, Tifa Lockhart, hereby absolve you, Vincent Valentine, of any guilt regarding myself or those things that are beyond mortal control, such as reading the future." She cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. "No more angsting. Agreed?"

The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Very well."

"Okay, good," Tifa sighed and made to remove her hand from his.

But before she could grab Marlene's water glass, Vincent's own hand reached out and gripped her finger tips. Tifa gasped before she could stop herself. She watched, transfixed as he slowly raised her hand to his lips, pausing a moment, breath ghosting out against her skin, making her shiver, before laying a tender kiss across the back of her knuckles. His eyes never left hers.

"Sleep well, Tifa."

And with that, he rose from his chair and swept out of the room in one fluid motion, leaving Tifa gaping in the darkness, utterly at a loss. She rose woodenly and then stole up the stairs to her room, having forgotten all about the half-full cup of water on the kitchen table.

- O -

7


	7. Secret Letters

Discovery

By: Illusion of the Mirror

The darkness is close, pressing, muffling sound. Tifa's palms find barriers on all sides and panic drives a spike into her chest as she gasps under the weight of the gloom. There. A thread of light down by her toes. Her fingernails scrape against wood; shallow breaths echo in the tight space. The armoire. She's in her bedroom armoire. And someone is outside.

Tears borne of fear threaten to brim over as all her muscles instantly seize. She must not make a sound, but despite her concentration, her heartbeat thuds in her ears and she cannot hear the intruder. Shadow passes over the line of light beneath the doors and she knows he's just on the other side: this unknown pursuer who has plagued her for so long. If she stays, he will find her.

The thin beam cuts back into her dark prison. It's time. She springs out of the armoire and into the room, slamming into something solid and somehow she knows it's him. But she doesn't stop to see if he's fallen, sprinting down the hall like a woman possessed, taking the entirety of the stairs in one leap. She can hear his thumping footfalls behind her as she skids into the kitchen and in her mad dash for the door, takes precious milliseconds to topple a chair into his path.

And then she's outside, tearing through the open yard and plunging into the darkness of the woods. He follows, crashing through the undergrowth with a curse. His voice is a terrible, rasping absence of sound and dread clouds the perimeter of her vision. She hurtles a fallen oak and lands hard and awkward, biting her lip until she tastes blood. He is coming, gaining despite her all her efforts.

Her lungs ache, her chest burns, her muscles pull and twist beneath her skin. Every step is raw, searing pain, like some unseen fire is consuming her alive. Tears sting her eyes and blur her sight, burning their way down her cheeks. She doesn't see the root. She never does. By the time she remembers to look for it she's already careening to the forest floor.

Pine needles bite into her palms and she squeezes her eyes shut. _**Wake up. It's a nightmare. Wake up, dammit!**_ But she hears his grating, hollow laughter, feels cold flames licking up her shins. She flips over, eyes wide, blood freezing in her veins, and she sees him: a slash of sucking darkness against the night sky, drawing the very life from her. She screams but no sound comes.

- O -

And then suddenly, Tifa was awake, eyes snapping open to reveal her own room bathed in the mid-morning light which spilled through the curtains and splashed across her bedspread. Light. Light was good. It meant safety. It meant warmth. And best of all, it meant that the storm had finally passed.

Tifa muttered a curse to herself as she uncoiled the sweaty sheets that clung to her legs. _**They'll have to be washed again,**_she thought as she began to ball up the bedclothes with a sigh. _**These night terrors are sure doing a number on my water bill.**_

__She was just crossing to her bathroom for a much needed shower when a heavy thud resounded against the ceiling above her, followed by a short yelp and a series of scraping noises, like boot-heels sliding along the gritty floor of the attic.

Murmured voices filtered down and then a clear, "Stop it! You're making it worse Yuffie!"

_**Okay. Shower can wait.**_ Throwing on her robe, Tifa hurried out of her bedroom and, just as expected, spotted the attic door open and ladder down. The voices were louder now and as Tifa passed by, the door to the guest room swung inward.

"What the hell is all that racket?" The pilot's hair was plastered flat against one side of his head and sticking straight up in the back.

"Morning, Cid," Tifa chirped with a smile, noting with amusement that he was missing a sock. "Just some harmless shenanigans, I'm sure. No worries."

"Hrmm," was all the reply she received before the door closed once more.

Tifa reached the bottom of the ladder just in time to see a face pop over the railing at the top. "Okay. So don't get mad, but Denzel may have busted your wardrobe."

The aforementioned boy pushed past the ninja and began to descend the ladder in a huff. "It was your fault, Yuffie! If you hadn't pushed me none of this would have happened." Tifa stepped to the side so he could pass.

"Good morning, honey. You okay?"

"Great. Just great, thanks," he answered without making eye contact.

Tifa glanced up at Yuffie for some sort of clue as to what had upset him, but the younger brunette only shook her head. By the time she turned back to Denzel, he had already gone into his old room and shut the door soundly behind him.

"I didn't do anything," Yuffie began in a soft voice as Marlene sidled up to join her in leaning over the railing. "I don't get why he's like this."

Tifa raised her hands in acquiescence before starting up the ladder. She cast a glance over her shoulder at the closed door before breaching the ceiling. Once at the top, she began herding the two girls further into the attic. Now that the piles of junk had been cleared away from the windows, enough light was filtering though to illuminate the bulk of the room, though someone had turned on the overhead light all the same, its dim wattage melting uselessly into the slanting sunbeams.

"Alright," Tifa began once she felt they were out of earshot. "So what happened?"

Yuffie opened her mouth to reply, but Marlene held up a silencing finger. "I wanna tell her." 

The young ninja relinquished story-telling rights with a flick of the wrist. "By all means."

"Okay. When Yuffie and me woke up you were still sleeping so we got up and I wanted to go see the attic because you had said last night that you and Mr. Vincent cleaned it." Marlene took hold of Tifa's hand and started leading her toward the far wall where the oversized ebony armoire loomed menacingly. Or maybe that was just her imagination.

"Denzel was downstairs and at first he told me it was a lame idea but he came anyway." A sad look crossed the girl's face then and Tifa felt a twist in her gut.

"So did you find anything cool?" she asked as the three of them came to a stop.

"Well, we found a bunch of jars of raindrops," Yuffie offered before kneeling down to drag a pair of fallen boxes out from in front of the wardrobe.

Marlene brightened significantly. "Yeah! And we found a box full of big, old hats! Are they yours, Tifa? I don't remember you having them."

"Nope," Tifa grunted as she helped Yuffie restack the boxes to their left. "I found them up here but I thought they were super neat. I figured I'd keep them." She backed up to survey her work, then, finding it suitable, turned to investigate the damage to the armoire.

The avalanche of heavy boxes had cracked the right door, breaking off the silver handle, which was now nowhere in sight. Something had landed hard against the bottom molding, causing it to splinter, and upon further inspection, Tifa found that one of the hinges on the left door had been bent in a way that made closing the doors impossible.

"You guys sure did a number on this poor monstrosity."

"I'm sorry we broke your closet, Tifa." Marlene knelt down beside her and threaded her small fingers into Tifa's hand. "I thought I saw a rat and we got scared and Denzel bumped the boxes. He didn't mean to…but it was mean of him to blame Yuffie."

"No kidding," Yuffie puffed before leaning down to join them. "So can you fix it?"

"I don't know," Tifa sighed as she rose to her feet. She gave Marlene's hand a squeeze. "But don't worry, sweetie, I'm not mad. I'm not even sure this old hunk of junk is worth fixing. Only reason I didn't ask Vincent to help me haul it out of here is because it probably weighs about eighty-billion pounds."

Marlene let loose a giggle. "Maybe you could ask Daddy to do it."

"Right!" Yuffie added with a snort. "Like you could even get that thing down the ladder! Barret would hardly fit by himself!"

At that moment, their shared laughter was interrupted by Shera calling from the bottom of the stairs. "Soup's on, kids! Come get it while it's hot!"

"You guys go ahead," Tifa prodded, goofy grin still clinging to her lips. "I'm going to see if I can't find that handle really quick. I'll be down soon."

The two girls turned to leave, giggling over some pun Yuffie had made. "Oh!" Tifa called as the top of their heads disappeared below the floor. "And make sure Cid doesn't eat my share!"

She waited for Yuffie's sarcasm-laced reply before turning back to the task at hand. _**Okay. So it's got to be somewhere around here.**_ Honestly, Tifa wasn't sure why she cared about finding the handle; she had been sincere when she told Marlene not to worry. She wasn't attached to the great, squatting bulk of a wardrobe or anything. But for some reason she felt compelled to look all the same.

Getting down on all fours, Tifa lowered her head as close to the floor as she could get without touching and peered underneath the ebony behemoth. There. Something glinted in the darkness back against the wall. With a sigh, she stretched out her arm, feeling about blindly with her fingertips but finding only dust bunnies. She scooted closer, bare feet scritching on the rough wooden floor, and was shoulder deep before the tips of her fingers brushed the wall.

"Okay…I know you're back there…aha!" Tifa closed her hand around something cold and metal and then suddenly, and rather inconveniently, remembered that Marlene had thought she'd seen a rat. She yanked her arm back like she'd been bitten, scraping the back of her hand on the splintered molding in her haste.

"Nice," she sighed before licking away the few beads of blood that had formed. But when she opened her hand, Tifa found that she was not, in fact, holding the lost handle, but rather, a large skeleton key. She turned it over in her palm, rubbing a layer of dust from the silver finish. It was beautiful, in the way that old things sometimes are, elegantly shaped and surprisingly heavy. It didn't make sense, really, the way it transfixed her, but the longer Tifa inspected the key, the more important it seemed. Closing her eyes, Tifa gently ran her fingers along every facet, as though she were memorizing its shape, branding it into her brain.

Then, somewhere amongst the creaks of the rafters and the soft groans of the wind against the windows, Tifa could have sworn she could hear whispering. It was indistinct, soft enough she had to hold her breath. The harder she strained to hear, the less human it sounded, more like the hissing of static than any construct of words. She could feel a droplet of blood trailing down past her wrist but remained perfectly still. Then, the whispering ceased and Tifa was left wondering whether she had heard anything at all.

Her eyes flicked open as she tucked the key into one of the front pockets of her robe. Such a treasure would have to be kept for further study. Besides, keys usually belonged to locks. Maybe she could find whatever it was this one belonged to.

Standing with a groan, Tifa leaned in to survey the busted door. She gave the hinges a few tests and then pulled both doors open. It was then that she noticed that the floor of the armoire had also been damaged. The single piece of wood that made up the bottom had caved in up front, leaving a gap in the back. Tifa gave the edge a tug, and with a bit of exertion, was able dislodge the piece entirely. Beneath, she found a small open space and inside, a faded, dust covered cigar box.

After further examination revealed no other items of interest, Tifa carefully replaced the floorboard and gave it a few pounds with her fist in each corner. Satisfied she'd preformed the maximum amount of repairs she could manage at present, Tifa turned her attention to the box. Gingerly, she turned it around in her hands before cautiously pulling up the lid. Inside, she found a stack of folded yellow parchment.

Careful not to tear her brittle discovery, Tifa unfolded the top piece. The inside was covered in some sort of writing. It was done in black ink, but the words were composed of symbols, rather than letters. The date in the upper right hand corner, however, she **could** read. These papers were over a hundred years old!

She was suddenly jarred from her thoughts by Yuffie's bellowing at the bottom of the ladder

"Tifa! I can't fend off Cid forever! Get your butt down here or I'll eat all your flapjacks myself!"

"Alright!" She called as she hurriedly stuffed the parchment back in the cigar box. "I'm coming right now!"

Tifa rushed back to the attic door, making sure turn off the ineffectual overhead light on her way. She folded up the ladder behind her and shut the door with a dull thud but paused before heading down the stairs. Doubling back to her room, Tifa slipped the cigar box under her robe. Once safely behind her door, she doffed the robe, rolling both box and key inside, and tucked it all into her bottom dresser drawer.

As she descended the stairs, Tifa realized she wasn't making sense again, but she couldn't shake the feeling that these discoveries were important for some reason. Whatever they were, she wanted to wait until she knew more before telling the others about them.

- O -

5


	8. A Clue in the Woods

A Grim History

A Clue in the Woods

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Tifa turned the yellowed parchment over in her hands. The writing was scrawled out in black ink and was addressed with only a single name; Marie Wolfe. A strange feeling tingled up Tifa's spine and it was almost as though she were on the verge of remembering something. She closed her eyes to shut out the light and a sound came to her ears.

At first it was so indistinct that she couldn't recognize it, but then it grew louder. Hoof beats. They were hoof beats. Then other sounds started to distinguish themselves from the noise. Whispering voices, squeaking hinges, running footsteps. It was all as though she was hearing through radio static and the harder she listened to pick out more noises, the more she could feel that tingly feeling coursing through her.

"Hey Tifa! Denzel and Marlene gave me the stuff! I'm coming up!"

Tifa's mind snapped back to reality and immediately the whispering and strange sensation ceased. She could hear Yuffie climbing the ladder and in a wave of unexplained panic, she threw the letters back into the box and shoved it back under the armoire.

Tifa looked up to see the girl holding the supplies in her arms as she approached. She stood quickly. "Thanks, Yuf. Just set the stuff on those boxes."

Yuffie turned and set her heavy bundle down. The stack of boxes she laid it on threatened to tumble, so while Yuffie arranged them so they weren't so precarious, Tifa grabbed the cigar box and wrapped it in a nearby sheet. She then turned and walked toward the ladder.

Yuffie looked around and saw Tifa leaving. "Hey! I thought you were-"

"Actually, I can do that later. Right now I just want to get these sheets down to my room."

Yuffie shrugged. "Okay, whatever."

They descended the ladder together and while Yuffie went to join the children playing downstairs, Tifa slunk away to her room and shut the door behind her. Once inside, she unwrapped the cigar box and sat on her bed.

Why had she hidden it from Yuffie? It didn't make sense, but she just felt like it needed to be kept a secret. She cracked open the lid and peered inside warily. What had happened earlier? What were all those noises?

Tifa slammed the lid back down. "Oh this is stupid. They're only letters." With that, she shoved the box under her bed and dressed quickly. She had a lot of things to do that day and sitting around asking more questions was definitely not on her list.

-- O --

"So anyway, yesterday there was this drunk who came in. I hear he had already been kicked out of the Dragon and Lilly's bar in town." Aiden O'Connor, a well-built young man of 19, stopped wiping down the counter and slung his dish towel over his shoulder. "He started asking a lot of questions about Melanie and then got really angry when I wouldn't answer any of them."

"Good for you, Ace," Tifa said as she waved to her waitress, Charlotte.

Aiden leaned closer and his short, brick-red curls twitched against his forehead. "But he came back later that night when Mel was working."

"Oh no." Tifa leaned closer as well. "Then what happened?"

"Well, of course Mel went crazy. She said that he was her ex-boyfriend who had been following her. She thought she was rid of him when the court issued a restraining order."

Charlotte, who had just finished dropping off two burgers at a table in the corner, stalked over. "Hey, Tifa. What are you doing at the bar? I thought you were supposed to be on vacation."

"Oh, I just dropped in for a visit." Tifa cast a thumb in Aiden's direction. "Ace is telling me about Mel."

Charlotte's purple eyes flashed. "About Derek, right? That creep who used to beat Mel? He better not ever lay a hand on her or so help me I'll rip off his-"

"He came in last night. Ace was telling me about what all happened."

"Anyway," Aiden began. "Fergy came out of the kitchen with his Smith & Wessen revolver and, well…" Aiden snickered. "Mel hid behind him and when the guy tried to get at her, Fergy pistol-whipped him."

Charlotte adjusted the chopsticks in her purple hair. "Poor, Mel. That girl can't even handle squishing a spider. How's she doing now?"

Aiden smiled. "She's fine." Then his smile fell. "But she wouldn't have been if she didn't get out before he spewed all those nasty threats."

Tifa was aghast. "He threatened Mel?"

"Aiden began gathering shot glasses from the bar. "No. He was shouting obscenities at Fergy, me, and you."

"Me?"

"Yeah." Aiden shrugged. "I have no idea why, but he mentioned something about you being a thief."

Tifa screwed up her nose. "But I'm not. I've never even seen this guy before."

"We-e-e-ell," Charlotte interrupted. "I hope the police took care of him."

"Oh yeah. He'll be in jail for a while for violating the restraining order."

Just then a big burly character burst out of the kitchen carrying two full plates of steak and potatoes. "Hey, Charlie! Come and get it!"

Charlotte jumped up and commenced in delivering the food and the man came over to join Tifa and Aiden.

"Hello Fergy."

"Hey Boss. You hear about last night?"

"Yeah, Ace just told me. Are you okay?"

Fergus shrugged and rubbed his bald head. "Eh? I'm always okay. I'd be more worried 'bout Mel."

Tifa pictured Melanie, this little wisp of a blonde who was as gentle as she was a fashion slave. She couldn't imagine what the confrontation had done to her. Aiden could read the worry on Tifa's face.

"Hey, don't worry. Mel's alright. She'll be back in for work tomorrow even."

"Really? Well I'm glad she's bounced back that quickly." Tifa stood and stretched. "Well guys, I'll let you get back to work, 'kay?"

Fergus gave her a wink. "Sure thing, Boss." He exited to the kitchen.

Aiden shook his head at the burly cook and then looked to Tifa. "Hey, Tifa? Um…if…"

"What is it, Ace?"

"Er…never mind. You'd better get going."

"Okay. Have a great day!" She waved to him on her way out. As she walked across the back yard to her kitchen's back door, she looked back at the bar.

Not too long ago she had decided to move out of the dirty city into a more peaceful environment where she could run her business. After finding the beautiful house she now lived in outside of town, she used the money she had saved to renovate the house next door into a family restaurant and tavern.

The property, which abutted a large, heavily wooded forest, had been remarkably cheap and Tifa was thankful that she had found it. The moment she had seen the place she had grown attached to it and now, as she looked around, she realized how fond she was of having a space to call her own.

Tifa stopped and stared out into the green leaves of the woods and let the cool breeze lift the stray strands of her hair. A cloud passed in front of the sun, bathing the trees in shadow and Tifa sighed. She'd had enough of clouds; of any kind.

A short laugh escaped from her lips and she turned to unlock the door, but a quiet rustle stopped her. She froze and listened. More rustling. _Was it coming from the woods?_

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded as one of the trash cans toppled over from the wind. Tifa jumped a mile and shrieked. Her breaths were deep as she tried to calm herself. The back door opened and Yuffie, Denzel, and Marlene flew out. "What is it?!" Marlene asked with a glance all around.

Tifa laughed at her jumpiness and set the trash bin upright again. "Nothing. The wind just knocked this over and startled me."

Yuffie let out a sigh. "Okay. You had me really worried for a second there."

"Us too," Marlene chimed in.

Tifa was about to ask if any of the others were home yet when she heard it again; rustling.

She whipped her head around to Yuffie and mouthed, 'Did you hear that.' Yuffie nodded and pointed to the brush by the house. All four slowly crept up to the bushes and Tifa motioned for the children to stay.

Quick as a flash, the two adults leapt into the bushes and barely avoided colliding. There was a sound of scurrying and then a loud mewl.

"Oh!" Marlene cried. "It's a kitten!"

She bent down and picked up the frightened beast. It cowered in her hands and nuzzled her neck. "Did those two scare you?" Marlene cooed.

Tifa and Yuffie stood and brushed the dirt off of their clothes. "Hey! Hey!" Yuffie shouted. "Aren't you going to ask if we're okay?!"

Marlene didn't respond. She only twirled around and around, clutching the kitten to herself. Denzel only shrugged at the two and then joined Marlene.

Yuffie sniffed and looked at Tifa. "How do you like that?"

Tifa laughed and plucked a leaf from the ninja's brown hair. "They're just kids, Yuf. I'll bet you were that way once too."

Yuffie sighed and crossed her arms, but a small smile crept across her face despite her efforts to remain grumpy. "Yeah, probably."

-- O --

"Daddy! Daddy! Look what we found!" As soon as Barret, Cid, and Shera had gotten in the door, Marlene pranced up and raised the kitten.

"A cat?" Barret looked down and the tiny, grey kitten mewed.

"Isn't she cute!? Can I keep her!? Please!" Marlene looked up at Barret with her huge, brown, hopeful eyes.

He sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. "Sure, hon."

Cid covered his mouth to stifle a snicker which earned a hard glance from Barret. "I hope that you have a girl, Cid." Cid's laughter immediately ceased.

Shera sat down in the nearest chair and motioned for Marlene to come over. "What will you name her?"

Marlene thought a moment and then smiled. "Buttercup!" She scratched the kitten's soft belly. "You like that, don't you?"

Cid screwed up is nose as he chewed on the toothpick that was dangling from his lips. "Buttercup? You sure? How 'bout crusher or spike or-"

"Buttercup," Marlene finished stubbornly.

Tifa watched the whole ordeal from the kitchen doorway as she dried one of the bowls the kids had used for ice cream earlier. "Hey…where are Vincent and Red?"

Cid turned to her and pushed his goggles back farther on his head. "Dunno. When we got up this morning to go get the Shera, they weren't here." He reached up to grab his Chesterfields from their usual spot beneath his goggle strap, but they weren't there. He looked about frantically until he spotted them on the corner bar. He crossed over and lit one up.

"Where did you land it? Not too close I hope."

Barret hoisted Marlene onto his shoulders. "Out in a field quite a ways from here. Didn't want Darknation to know it was ours."

Shera yawned. "Well, I think it's about time for my afternoon nap." She stood with some effort. "We're going to be spending nights in the Shera from now on so you have more room here." She smiled. "But before you change the sheets, may I?"

Tifa smiled broadly and nodded. "Of course."

Marlene looked down from her high perch. "Tifa, are we staying?"

"If you're dad says so."

Marlene tapped her father on the head. "Yes, Marlene, we're stayin'."

"Buttercup's gonna need food."

Barret set Marlene on the floor. "Okay then. Get Denzel and we'll go get some kitty food."

Marlene raced off into the other room, all the while clutching the kitten to her chest. Tifa playfully punched Barret in the shoulder. "You softie." Barret quickly swung Tifa into a fierce noogie. "Hey! Hey! Okay I take it back!" He released her just as the door opened and Red walked in with Vincent on his heels.

"Hello all." Red sat on the floor next to the couch. "We bring interesting news."

Cid took a puff of his almost finished cigarette. "All right, what?"

Vincent closed the door and faced the window. "The building that I had intruded into, it's gone."

Tifa set down her bowl and towel and folded her arms. "Gone?"

Vincent only nodded and then turned to face her. "All that remains in its place is cement."

"Freshly poured cement," Red added in.

"So let me get this straight," Barret crossed over and leaned against the fire place. "They demolished it?"

"Yes, it would appear so." Vincent pulled off his dark sunglasses and set his hand on the back of a chair. "Oddly enough..." But he was cut off by Marlene rushing into the room via the kitchen door.

"I can't find Denzel anywhere!"

-- O --

Denzel walked slowly along the path. It was nice here in the woods. He felt at peace for one of the first times in forever. He looked at his shoes and felt the breeze slip through the trees to caress his face. He welcomed the cool sting it brought to his eyes. It was lonely here, but it was the kind of lonely where you can hear yourself think and forget your troubles and insecurities.

He gazed up through a break in the leafy roof. It looked as though it would rain soon. He'd better head back now. He turned to leave, but just as he did, he caught a glimpse of something white amongst the green underbrush. It looked like a crumpled piece of paper. He strayed from the path in order to investigate.

He held the paper up and turned it over. It was a note or something but he couldn't read it. It looked like it was in code.

Something moved in the brush and Denzel's attention snapped away from the paper. "H-hello?" No answer. It was probably a squirrel or something, but still, Denzel was even more certain it was a good time to head back. He stuffed the paper in his pocket and made his way back to the path. A twig snapped. He quickened his pace.

Growling. Now Denzel was getting worried. He was sure he could hear something growling. Squirrels don't growl. He broke into a run.

No sooner had he crossed a small bridge than a huge, black, feral dog burst out of the bushes. Its eyes were bloodshot and its mouth was dripping foam. It must have been four and a half feet tall! Denzel knew he had little hope of outrunning the beast, but he was sure going to try!

He flew of along the path and could hear the hound following. Not only was it following, it was also gaining. Denzel's leg muscles ached and screamed as they were pushed to their limit. He glanced down. Oh no! Now he had lost the path! He spun around. He was cornered! And now the monster was inching closer. "N-nice doggie…"

Suddenly, a loud roar echoed out and a great, red blur burst out of the brush and collided with the hound. Denzel raced behind a tree and peered out at the two beasts circling each other. The hound drooled and snarled as it stumbled along; its breathing labored.

Red let loose a deep, guttural growl that showed that he was not backing down, and the monster leapt toward him. Though Red was fast, the beast's claws ripped into the flesh of his back leg. Pain shot up his spine, but now his instincts kicked in. This hound would die here. Red roared and snapped his teeth into the monster's neck. It yelped and shook until it rammed Red's head into a tree; causing him to lose his grip.

Denzel gasped, unknowingly giving up his hiding place. Unfortunately, the creature saw him pull back behind the tree and bounded toward him. But it only made it a few yards, for Red leapt onto the monster's back and drug his claws down its spine. The beast pitched forward and cast Red off its severely bleeding back. Now thoroughly furious, it lunged for Red's throat.

"Red, watch out!" Denzel shouted.

Red looked up just in time and managed to miss the hound's rabid jaws. But despite his quick movement, the creature now stood on top of him; its drool dripping onto his heaving chest.

Suddenly a shot rang out, and there was a final yelp of pain from the mad canine. It flopped onto its side in a sick, bloody heap. Denzel felt a firm hand on the back of his neck and looked up to see Barret's very grim face. Now he was in for it.

Vincent ran over to Red, Cerberus still smoking in his hand. "Thanks," the injured beast mumbled between breaths. "That monster just about had the better of me." He stood with some effort.

Vincent holstered Cerberus and crossed his arms.

Denzel looked at his shoes. He could feel the radiating disappointment from the others. Now he was **really** in for it.

-- O --

Tifa drummed her fingers on the coffee table and watched Yuffie nervously play with Marlene's hair. Barret and Denzel had been outside for an hour now. She smiled weakly at Marlene, who petted her kitten gingerly. "Tifa, what's gonna happen to Denzel?"

Tifa only shrugged. Luckily, Red hadn't been bitten. They had all split up, hoping for the best, but suspecting the worst. She bit her lip. When she had caught up with them, everyone wore grim faces. Now, they all were scattered about the living room, with the exception of Cid and Shera, who had already left. It was tensely silent.

Red's injuries were mostly light scratches and bruises, but he had a nasty scratch on his back leg that had needed bandaged.

The door opened slowly, and a very dismal Denzel shuffled into the room. He crossed to Red and bowed his head. "Thank you, Mr. Thirteen. I'm very sorry for all the injuries you got on my behalf."

Red stood and nodded. "All is forgiven, young one. I'm just glad that I got there when I did."

Denzel looked up at Barret, who nodded. Apparently he had had quite the talking to. Marlene leapt up and hugged Denzel tightly. "Oh Denzel! I was so worried! And so was Buttercup!"

Denzel hugged her back. "I'm sorry." He let go and backed away, his head down. "I'm sorry to everyone for going off by myself and causing so much trouble."

Tifa stood and put a hand on his back. "Just don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay."

She embraced him. "Wait…" he said and backed away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. "Here. I found this in the woods." He handed it to her. "It's in some sort of code, though."

Barret spoke. "Thanks, Denzel. Now you need to go upstairs. You too, Marlene." With that, the children left. Barret sighed and sank into a chair. His sigh said a thousand words that would remain unspoken. "Okay, so…the paper?"

"It's like he said," Tifa answered. "Just symbols. They're all composed of straight lines." She dropped it on the table. "Argh. I'm so sick of having no answers and a billion questions."

"You're not alone," Yuffie chimed in.

Tifa stood quickly and started for the stairs, braving a glance at Vincent before she left. He stood with his arms crossed and his brows drawn in his ever-serious way just gazing out the front window at the glowering clouds. Tifa looked away and climbed the staircase. He was always so very solemn.

Once safe in her room, Tifa plopped on her bed. Hey what was this? The paper; she had it in her hand. She must have picked it up. Suddenly, she remembered the letters and leaned over the side of the bed to pull out the cigar box. She paused and cautiously pulled out one letter. So far, so good; no weird feelings or voices. She opened it and her eyes widened.

She picked up the piece of paper. A match! The writing was in the same symbols, just in a different handwriting! But what was this doing in the woods?

-- O --

9


	9. Intruders

A Grim History

Intruders

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Tifa looked through each letter. They were all the same. It was all the same strange writing with the exception of one that was on the very bottom.

**Marie,**

**I know this is hard for you, but you must see reason. He is lost to you. You owe him nothing. It is vital that you do as Nathaniel dictates and flee. You are no longer safe. If they find out who you are, all is lost. Do not linger in the past.**

**Dimitri**

_Well that wasn't terribly enlightening._ Tifa set the letters down and stared out her window. It was overcast now and the heavy clouds threatened to break into sobs at any moment. She rubbed her temples. Okay…so this was just creating more questions. What did she actually **know**? She sank to the floor with her back against the wall. "You're in a heap of trouble, that's what." She laid her head on her knees. Not only had her nightmares gotten worse, but now she was hearing noises and feeling weird tingles.

"What is wrong with me?" she asked the still air. Of course she received the answer she had expected; silence. Her head ached and her body cried for sleep. But sleep meant dreams. Tifa wasn't ready for any more dreams. She sighed and stood. "I suppose I'd better go back downstairs or the others will think I'm sick or something." She crossed to her door and turned the knob. Once the door opened, she looked up and was face to face with Vincent.

"Oh!" She stumbled backward.

"I am sorry. I should have announced my presence." He stared directly and unfalteringly into her eyes. "The others have gone out to eat, but I wanted to make sure you were well."

Tifa smiled nervously and nodded. She wanted to tell him about the letters, but she just couldn't bring herself to say anything, she only stood there.

"Are you not going to sleep, then?"

"Huh? Oh…no." She sighed. She was battling with herself. "Hey, Vince," she finally said. "I have something I need to show you."

She brought him into her room and showed him the letters. Vincent's face managed to remain devoid of expression, but his eyes betrayed a sense of fascination that Tifa found striking. It was as though he was constantly studying everything and everyone around him.

After he had combed through the complete works, he met Tifa's expectant eyes and quirked an eyebrow. "And how did you happen to come by these."

Tifa shifted under his hypnotic gaze. "When the kids were in the attic they busted the bottom of the armoire and when I gave it a closer look, this was hidden underneath." She held up the cigar box.

Vincent narrowed his eyes in thought and studied the particular parchment in his hand. "First of all, only one of these has an envelope with it. Perhaps the rest aren't actually letters. But either way, this is an ancient writing. I would suppose it to be runes of some sort."

"How can you tell?" Tifa leaned over to get a closer look.

Vincent adjusted so that she could see more clearly. "Do you see how there are no curved lines. That's because when runes were created, there was no paper, only stone and wood." A strange undertone crept into Vincent's voice; a boyishness that revealed his interest in the subject. "Straight lines were much easier to carve and so the letters were." He sighed gently. "Unfortunately, there are several runic alphabets and even more languages that they were commonly written in." He turned to face Tifa and looked straight into her eyes. "But this is still quite fascinating."

Tifa's eyes searched his. "Uh-huh," she replied absent-mindedly. She realized that their faces were but inches apart and pulled quickly away. She turned her face to hide her blush. "You never struck me as a history buff, Vincent."

Vincent placed the letters back in the box and closed the lid. "It's more of a language thing. I have always been fascinated by them."

Tifa turned to him and placed a hand on her hip. "You were right."

"Concerning?"

"You are full of surprises."

A smile slowly appeared in Vincent's eyes. "Indeed." Thunder rolled in the distance and Vincent arced an eyebrow. "Sounds like rain."

Tifa sighed as they left the room together. "Yeah," but then she smiled brightly. "Hey, how about a game of checkers?"

Vincent chuckled shortly. "I suppose that could be arranged."

-- O --

By the time the others returned, Tifa had already lost five games. She suspected that Vincent had let her win the other two.

Marlene bounced up and watched the progress. "What'cha doing?" she asked in a sing-songy voice.

Vincent slid a black piece along the board. "Playing checkers."

"Oh…well, we got Chinese! Buttercup couldn't come inside so we got take-out and ate in the park."

Yuffie groaned as she walked past. "That is until the rain started."

Barret gave a hardy laugh. "Whatsa matter, Yuffie? A little water won't kill ya!"

Yuffie only cut him a death glance. "I'm goin' to bed."

Barret turned to Marlene. "You should go too."

"Okay!" Marlene reached into her coat pocket and pulled out two small packages. "Here, I got you guys fortune cookies!"

Tifa picked up one. "Thanks, sweetie." Vincent picked up the other and turned it over in his hand.

"You're welcome!" She leaned up and hugged Barret around the waist. "'Night, Daddy. Come on Buttercup." The kitten purred and snuggled into Marlene's collar as she ascended the stairs.

"Hey, Barret, where's Denzel?" Tifa queried.

"Outside with Red. They've been talking this whole time." He smiled and stretched. "Guess what happened today made Denzel admire him."

The front door opened and Denzel and Red XIII walked in. "Okay now," Red said. "Get a good night's sleep, okay?"

Denzel nodded. "Okay and thanks." He turned to leave but, much to everyone's surprise, he turned back and gave Barret a hug.

"G'night." With that he scurried off and up the stairs.

Barret stood aghast. "Uh…" He looked at Red who simply smiled and shrugged.

"I certainly didn't put him up to that."

-- O --

It was about 12:30 and although everyone had gone to their respective rooms, Tifa just could not sleep. She tried the right side, the left side, her back, and her tummy, but only ended up pulling her sheets in all directions. Earlier she was struggling not to sleep, and now, she couldn't sleep to save her life. She sighed at the irony of it all.

Finally, she gave up entirely and laid flat on her back, staring at blank ceiling. Maybe if she stopped trying, sleep would come on its own. She stilled herself and listened to the light pitter-patter of rain hitting the roof. It wasn't the shed, but now that the house was full of people, Tifa felt at peace. That is, until she heard a noise.

She sat up. It was a clicking sound, like that of a door closing or a key in a lock. But now all she could hear was the rain. Odd. If it were one of the others, wouldn't the sound have come from the hallway? She listened intently. There was a metallic grinding sound, but it wasn't coming from the hall, it was coming from outside.

Tifa nearly panicked. She flipped back the blankets and rushed to the window. Down in the darkness she could see something, or someone, moving. The movement stopped and Tifa shut the curtain. _Okay, Mr. Intruder, time for a surprise!_

She slid on some shoes and slipped out into the hall, stopping to knock lightly on Vincent's door. There was a shuffling inside and a few moments later the door cracked open. "Yes?"

"Vincent," Tifa whispered, "Sorry to wake you, but there's someone outside."

The door suddenly swung inward and Vincent stepped through the doorway with Cerberus gleaming in his hand. "Not for long, they aren't."

Once downstairs, Tifa quietly woke Barret and Red and all four split up to encircle the house. Tifa went with Barret and Red with Vincent. However, when they stepped outside, the rain seemed to drown out any noises and although they encircled the house and the bar, they found no one.

Barret yawned. "Are you sure you saw someone, Tif?"

Tifa was indignant. "Yes, positive. There **was** someone out here."

Red growled softly. "Well, whoever they were, they were wise to leave before I got a hold of them. I do not take lost sleep lightly."

"Wait," Vincent spoke up. They all turned to him to see he was kneeling on the ground. "Here. Footprints." Barret and Tifa couldn't see them, but both Red and Vincent's extraordinary eyesight could pick them up.

"Yes," Red replied. "They went this way." Tifa and Barret looked at each other and then followed Vincent and Red around to the side of the house. "There's a group of prints right here. There were two of them."

Vincent followed the prints with his eye and then started toward the woods. The others followed and about fifty yards down the path, Vincent halted. "That's strange…"

Tifa grabbed her bare, wet elbows and shivered. "What is?"

"The tracks stop here. There's no turn off or signs of a vehicle."

Barret stood up straight as a thought came to him. "I gotta get back and check on the kids." He then turned and ran off toward the house and Red followed.

Tifa turned back to see Vincent standing, looking very intently at the ground. "Come on, Vincent. That's all we can do tonight."

Vincent sighed stiffly and joined her. He kept his eyes trained on the path in front of them. "It's never a good thing when prowlers vanish into thin air."

Tifa shuddered. She certainly couldn't argue with that.

-- O --

Once back inside, Tifa got the four of them towels from the hall closet. She helped Red XIII dry off the cold droplets of rainwater hiding in his fur.

"Thank you, Tifa. I have to admit that in predicaments such as this, having hands with opposable thumbs would be a boon."

Tifa giggled as she backed away. "Well, how do you usually dry off?"

Red gave her a devious look and then gave his hide a great shake, sending freezing drops of water to splash on Tifa. "Ack! Stop!" Tifa giggled in a half-shout, half-whisper.

Barret descended the stairs, now satisfied that no damage had befallen the children in their absence. Tifa offered him a warm, fluffy towel and he accepted it from her and started drying off. "No harm done, they didn't even wake up."

Tifa flopped onto the couch and kicked off her muddy shoes. "So who were they and what the heck were they doing?"

Red sighed and sat on his haunches. "That does seem to be the million dollar question. Since when do people just…poof?"

Vincent stood by the door, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Magic, perhaps?"

Red chuckled. "Yeah, magic, okay." He looked back and saw Vincent's serious expression. "Oh, sorry, you weren't joking."

"Not especially."

Tifa tried to suppress a yawn, but the attempt only seemed to make the end result all the more loud and wide.

Barret scratched his now dry head. "Well either way, Tifa's right." He grinned at her. "It's time we got back to sleep."

Tifa only shrugged and smiled. "Hey, what can I say? I'm just full of brilliant ideas."

-- O --

By the time morning rolled around, Tifa hadn't slept a wink. She had stayed up the entire night looking up runic alphabets on her laptop. And strangely enough, she wasn't tired at all. The researching had been kind of fun, especially since she had found what she was looking for. She moved the pointer to the top of the page and clicked the print button.

She leaned back and let out a pleased sigh. "Wow, nice job, Tifa. Now all you have to do is go to the office and get it." She clicked the laptop shut and set it on her bedside table. She was pretty proud of herself, but she was even more excited to see the look on the other's faces when she showed them what she had come with. Okay…so mostly the look on Vincent's face.

She raced down the stairs with an energy abnormal for someone who had been awake for over 24 hours. She made her way into the kitchen. All that researching had given her an appetite for something sweet and definitely unhealthy.

Marlene looked up from her fruit loops as Tifa passed by. "Morning!"

"Good morning, Marlene." She gave the girl a rub on her head. "Wow, Marlene. You've got a major case of pillow head!"

Marlene looked up at her with a frown, and Tifa frowned back. Then they simultaneously condensed into giggles. "Heehee…I suppose it is pretty bad."

Just then, Tifa felt something fuzzy hit her leg. She looked down to see the little kitten hiding behind her calf just as Denzel rounded the corner on his hands and knees. He laughed maniacally. "I've got you now! There's no escape!" The kitten ran on its stubby legs and hid under the table. Denzel pounced on it and held the kitten still as it squirmed in his hands.

Marlene gasped. "Don't hurt her!"

"We're only playing, aren't we Buttercup?" In reply, Buttercup batted at the tie on Denzel's sweatshirt. Tifa giggled and opened the cupboard to pull out a box of cookies. Marlene looked up from her cereal. "Hey! You can't have cookies for breakfast!"

Tifa gave Marlene a squinty look and pulled an Oreo out of the box and bit into it. "Technically, I didn't go to sleep, so this isn't really my breakfast."

Marlene gave her an angry look. "Okay, I'll eat something healthy when I get back."

"Where are you going?" a baritone voice queried from the doorway.

"Oh, good morning, Vincent. I'm just running over to the bar to grab some papers I printed off. Wanna come?"

Vincent crossed over to stand next to her and watched the two children wrestling with their newfound friend on the floor. She could see a ghost of a smile come to his face. Tifa thought Vincent's soft spot for the children was totally baffling, but at the same time, quite adorable. Of course, if she ever told him that, he just might shoot her.

He turned to face her. "Certainly."

Just then, Yuffie sauntered into the room and nearly tripped over Denzel.

"Whoa!" She did a strange, clumsy side flip and landed flat on her back. She sat up and glared furiously at Denzel. "Hey! What's the idea?!" Then a crafty grin stretched across her face. "Come here, you!" She grabbed Denzel and wildly tickled his sides. "You tryin' to kill me?! Huh?!" Then Marlene jumped onto Yuffie's back and started tickling her neck, distracting her long enough for Denzel to get free. "Hey, no fair!" she shouted. "You two are teaming up on me!"

Red strolled into the room. "What's all the racket about?"

Denzel stopped and looked up. "Morning, Red."

Red smirked artfully. "She's most ticklish on her feet." Tifa burst out into laughter at Red's betrayal.

"Red!" Yuffie shouted. But it was too late. Each kid had hold of one of her wildly kicking feet.

-- O --

"Okay, Vincent," Tifa said once they entered the bar. "You can go ahead and get the papers out of my printer, I'm gonna see if my workers are ready for when they open." Vincent nodded and disappeared into the back rooms.

Just then, a petite blonde bounced up and threw her thin arms around Tifa's waist. "Hey, Tifa! What are you doing here? Weren't you on vacation? The bar's not even open yet!"

"Hey, Mel. How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine now, but who is that guy? Is he your boyfriend? You need one, y'know. He's kind of cute in a creepy, dark sort of way!" Tifa snickered at how fast the girl spoke. "Always on the look out, aren't you?"

"You know me." Melanie sat on the nearest barstool and started picking at her manicured nails. "Keaton and I just came by to, like, check the schedule for this week and stuff." It wasn't until then that Tifa noticed the quiet individual to her right. "Oh, hey Niles." Keaton adjusted his glasses. "Hey."

Vincent reentered the room. "You found the runes. Where did-" He halted when he noticed the two new additions. "Oh Vincent, this is Keaton Niles and Melanie Church. They're two of my employees." Vincent gave them a simple and rather aloof nod.

Keaton ran a hand through his straight, sandy hair and spoke softly. "What were you saying about runes?"

Knowing that Vincent would either tell Keaton to mind his own business or not even answer at all, Tifa decided to do so for him. "I'm doing some independent studies on Norse culture. I find them quite interesting. Vincent here is my study-buddy."

Keaton's expression fell, but only for an instant. "Oh, well, if you need any more information, I have this amazing history professor. He loves all that stuff, especially local history and lore. You should look him up, his name's Malcolm. Professor Malcolm."

Melanie tapped her stiletto heel impatiently. "Keeeeaton, I've got to get to my audition!" She hopped off the stool. "I might be on this TV show. The director said I had potential!"

Tifa was only mildly impressed. "Which one?"

Melanie opened her mouth to reply, but then looked confused. "I don't remember." Then she shrugged. "But I don't want to be late and Keaton's taking me since that doofus of an ex-boyfriend of mine slashed my tires."

Keaton sighed. "Well, the queen dictates, but remember what I told you. Just mention my name. He's a busy guy, but that should win him over."

Tifa smiled. "Thanks, I will." Keaton blushed at her smile and opened the door for Melanie. Mel waved and blew a kiss to Tifa as she left, but then she poked her head back inside. "Treat her nice, Vincent. She's a great catch!" With that, the two left.

Tifa turned away to hide her mad embarrassment. Vincent only cleared his throat. "So you're studying the Norse culture now?"

Tifa turned to face his smirk. "Hey, it wasn't entirely a lie. I sort of am."

Vincent only chuckled and held the door open for Tifa. The two started back for the house. "You shouldn't be jealous of my mad story-making skills, Vincent."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "I'm practically green with envy."

Tifa thought of Mel's comment and a whole new wave of embarrassment washed over her. She tried to think of anything to get her mind off it. "Hey, I'll race you back!"

Vincent stopped and smirked at her childish suggestion. Tifa grinned playfully. "I promise I'll go easy on you." At first he only quirked an eyebrow and scoffed, but then his eyes suddenly widened and his mouth fell open.

"What? Still afraid you'll lose?" Then Tifa realized he was gawking at something behind her. She whipped around expecting to see some wild-eyed beast with flaring nostrils, but saw only trees. "Vincent…?"

She turned back around, but Vincent wasn't there. He was already racing off toward the house.

"Hey, no fair!" Tifa called after him. "You cheated!"

-- O --

9


	10. Meeting Professor Malcolm

A Grim History

Meeting Professor Malcolm

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"Wait…what!?"

Yuffie heaved a dramatically exasperated sigh. "I already told you, Cid! Me and Tifa are taking the kids to the college, Vincent and Red are watching the house, and you, Shera, and Barret are going to translate these letters!"

"No, you overzealous little shit; I meant who the hell is Elder what's-his-name!?"

Yuffie groaned. "Haven't you been listening at all?" She looked desperately to Tifa. "You explain it! I'm done trying to communicate with this overgrown, glorified turnip!"

"Okay," Cid's mouth fell open and pointed a finger at Yuffie's nose. "What did you just call me!?"

Yuffie was hardly intimidated. She leaned forward and pointed her own finger at Cid's nose. "I said-"

"Okay you two," Shera broke in. "That is enough! Yuffie, you go wait outside! Cid, you be quiet and listen to Tifa! My word! The children aren't this bad!" Both Yuffie and Cid blinked simultaneously, but then Yuffie turned and strode off, grumbling the whole way. "He's got the intelligence of a dead Nibel Slug!"

Tifa giggled, but then composed herself quickly when she received 'looks' from Cid, Shera, and Barret. She bit her lip and addressed the frustrated pilot. "Elder Futhark was the name of the man who created this particular alphabet. The first seven letters are his name. That's all she was getting at."

Cid sat back on a stool and crossed his arms, his cigarette wobbling precariously on his lip as he spoke. "Well, why didn't she just say so?"

Shera rolled her eyes and breathed a mildly amused sigh. She took Tifa's hands into her own. "Don't worry, I'll make sure we get a chunk of these translated. You had better go before night classes begin."

Tifa nodded and turned toward the stairs. "C'mon kids! Time to go!" Marlene came racing down the stairs, Buttercup bouncing in her tote bag. "Hold it, Marlene. Buttercup can't come in the college. Kitties aren't aloud."

Marlene stuck her lip out in a stubborn pout. "But she'll get lonely."

"No she won't, she'll be with Cid and Shera and your daddy." Marlene still looked skeptical, but she pulled the kitten from her tote and set her on Cid's lap.

"Hey!" Cid pulled his hands back as though someone had just thrown a piranha at him. Red ambled down the stairs with Denzel on his heels. He laughed boisterously.

"Afraid of a little feline, Cid?" Cid cut him a heated glance and knocked his ashes into a nearby ashtray.

"You ready, Denzel?" Tifa asked. "Yep! Red and I were just working on some homework I have due next week.

Yuffie popped her head in through the front door. "You guys coming or not? We're burning daylight!"

-- O --

The whole bus ride to the college was a series of whines and fights between Yuffie and the kids. Marlene was grumpy because she had to leave Buttercup at home, and Yuffie was still surly from being chastised by Shera. The two made quite a pair and Tifa eventually gave up sending apologizing glances to the other passengers and resigned herself to staring out the window in thought.

There were a lot of things to think about. A lot. It was so frustrating! She had so many questions but hardly any answers to go with them. Somehow she couldn't help but think that these letters had something to do with the Resistance. She didn't know why. Well, she was going to clear that up with this visit to Professor Malcolm. But either way, she felt she needed to sort out her thoughts.

Number one: what were those letters about? Who put them here? Who lived in the house before her? Well, she'd just have to wait until they were translated to figure that out. Okay, number two: the intruders. What the heck were they doing? Nothing was stolen or broken. Were they from Darknation or just some kids being annoying? Third: what was up with those strange voices? Why now? Did they have something to do with those letters or this whole thing with Darknation? And then of course there were her nightmares. They were all the same and were getting more and more detailed and terrifying. Surely they meant **something**.

Tifa set her chin in her hand and braced herself as the bus turned a corner. She had to be going crazy. Normal people don't hear voices in their heads. But then again, nothing about this situation was normal. She smiled to herself. What better person for it to be happening to? She had longed for something more than the monotony of day to day life, and now she had it. 'Be careful what you wish for,' she advised herself silently.

Yuffie and the kids were now looking out the windows at the busy streets of the town. Tifa's smile deepened.

And then of course, there was Vincent. He had sure changed since their first adventure. Since he had gotten to know them, he had been much more…normal? No, not really. More like much more natural, well, around her anyway. As he opened up, Tifa found herself falling more and more for him. True, they didn't really have too much in common, but he made her feel like she mattered. He always gave her his unhindered attention and despite his serious appearance, he could be just as childish as she could.

But…she couldn't possibly hope for anything between them. After all, what could someone like Vincent ever see in someone like her? Nothing but a naïve little girl, that's what.

Tifa opened her eyes to see a hand waving in front of her face. "Tifa, the bus has stopped at the college…"

Tifa looked up at Yuffie's perplexed expression. "Oh, okay let's go!"

-- O --

"Personally, I'm a little surprised Professor Malcolm actually allowed me to let you in without an appointment. He's been **very** busy these days." Mrs. Higgins, a short, stocky woman who wore a permanently sour expression, was leading the four to the professor's office. Marlene giggled at a silent joke she and Denzel had shared and Mrs. Higgins regarded the two icily. "…especially when you have **children** with you." She spat the word out as though it were poison on her lips.

Then she halted at the middle of the large corridor and pointed noncommittally at a tall wooden door. "Here you are." Tifa noticed a golden, metal nameplate that read: S. Malcolm Professor of Historical Cultures. Mrs. Higgins tapped her grey pump impatiently on the tile floor. "Well, I have work to do, so…"

"Oh, sorry." Tifa reached up a hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" a voice shouted from inside. Grateful to be getting away from Mrs. Higgins, Tifa ushered the children inside and pulled the door closed behind her. She could hear the crisp 'pok-pok' of Mrs. Higgins' heels as she marched back down the hall and on to grace someone else's presence.

She then took a moment to study her surroundings. It was a rather large office with only one heavily curtained window and rows of overstuffed bookshelves lining the walls. An assortment of shards of pottery were being displayed in a glass case by the door and at the far end of the room a man sat behind a huge mahogany desk busily scratching away in a notebook. _Hmm…that must be the professor._

The man waved a hand without glancing up from his writing. "Please take a seat. I shall be with you in a moment."

Tifa and Yuffie sank into two very elegant, red, straight-backed chairs and the children sat reluctantly on what appeared to be an old, wooden church pew. Finally, the professor closed his notebook, stood, and circled the desk to address Tifa. He reached down and shook both hers and Yuffie's hands. "Sorry for the wait. As I'm sure my secretary has told you, I'm quite busy this time of year."

Yuffie snorted. "Oh yes, she **told** us alright." Tifa gave Yuffie a displeased glare which the ninja was, of course, completely oblivious to. But rather than offended, the professor seemed amused.

"Ah yes, Mrs. Higgins has the experience of a rocket scientist but the cordiality of an injured mother grizzly bear." He then threw his head back and laughed. "I assure you that you are not the first to notice, and you will probably not be the last. It's all part of the experience, I'm afraid."

Malcolm peered over to see Marlene and Denzel fidgeting on the pew. "If you two would like, I'm finished with my chalkboard for the day. You may use it."

Marlene's face immediately brightened. "Where is it?"

"In my lecture hall just through that door." He cast a thumb toward a second wooden door.

"Thanks!" the children said in near unison, and they were off quicker than a flash.

The professor chuckled and sat in a third straight-back chair. "I may be up there in my years, but I still remember being a child."

"Thank you," Tifa sighed. "Sometimes I think those two are incapable of sitting still."

Malcolm smiled, revealing small wrinkles at the corners of his dark eyes. "But I doubt you are here to discuss children and my beast of a secretary."

Tifa smiled as well. "No, actually, I'm doing some research on runes and my employee, Keaton Niles, said that I should see you if I had any questions over history."

Malcolm sat back in his chair and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses farther up his nose. "Ah yes, young Niles. A promising student, that one. His writing is extraordinary. You say he works for you?"

"Yes, I own a restaurant on the outskirts of town called Seventh Heaven." She shifted in her collared blouse. "I was hoping you could answer some questions I have about local history."

Malcolm brushed back a strand of his gray hair. "I shall certainly try."

"First of all, were there any local groups that were of Norse lineage?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I found some old letters in my attic and they were all written in Norse runes."

A twinkle came to Malcolm's almost indigo eyes. "Well, it would be difficult to say. Norse cultures have spread all across the world. I suppose it's possible there was a settlement in your area at one time or another."

Tifa reached into her purse and pulled out the piece of paper Denzel had found. "Here. I already have a copy of this. It's this particular alphabet that they were written in."

Yuffie piped up. "The Elder Futhark alphabet."

Malcolm studied the paper with interest and then looked at Yuffie with a smile. "You ladies are quite learned in Norse runes."

Yuffie beamed with the praise. "Well, I only know a little."

"I'm sure that's still more than many of my cohorts here in the history department." He turned to Tifa and raised the paper. "You wouldn't happen to have any of these letters with you by any chance? I should very much like to study them."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry, I left them at home."

"Pity." Malcolm crossed his legs. "Any other questions I can help you with?"

Tifa paused and then closed her purse. "Yes, actually. What do you know about the Resistance?"

Malcolm's eyes met hers. "That legend? Not a whole lot. What, pray tell, did you want to know?"

"But I thought they were real," Yuffie blurted out. "They were a group in ancient times that overthrew the evil king and his sorcerers."

"My, but you **are** learned. You must remember, Miss, that history is written by the winners and people are more inclined to make themselves out to have been wronged in order to justify their actions."

"So they were a myth?" Tifa queried.

"From all that we know. But most details surrounding the reign of King Sloan have been intertwined with fantasy and legend. It is difficult to prove any of the more fantastic claims."

"Such as the whole crown thing?" Yuffie offered.

"Why yes. That is a rather unbelievable claim." He looked down and adjusted his bowtie. "However, Miss Lockheart, I will still answer any questions you have concerning the legend of the Resistance."

Tifa ran her hand through her hair. "I think they may actually be around today," she stated absentmindedly. Malcolm stopped polishing his glasses and looked up. "Why is that?"

"I don't know really, it's simply a hunch. I just have a feeling, y'know?" Tifa blushed, realizing how ignorant she must sound, but Malcolm didn't rebuke her and only stroked his clean-shaven chin.

"Hunches should never be taken lightly, Miss Lockheart. They can save your life some day."

She was just about to ask what he meant by that when Marlene poked her head through the door. "Um…Mr. Malcolm? We found your museum. May we see it?"

Yuffie sat up straight and stopped playing with her shoelaces. "A museum?"

"Oh yes." Malcolm groaned as he stood. "Ah, to be young and limber again." He turned to face Yuffie. "Don't wait until you're old to do the fun things you've always wanted to. It certainly gets harder."

Tifa and Yuffie stood as well and followed him into the lecture hall. It was huge with at least 15 rows of seats and a whole wall of blackboards that were now half-filled with Marlene's and Denzel's artwork. Malcolm led them to an open door at the opposite side of the room. "It's not grand, but I do run the university's museum of local history. Would you like a personal tour?"

Tifa bit her lip. "Are you sure we aren't taking up too much of your time?"

Malcolm gave her a grand smile and that twinkle came back to his kind eyes. "Not at all. This is my life; I do enjoy a chance to share it with others." He glanced at Denzel who was gawking at one of the exhibits. "Especially young minds eager to learn."

Tifa followed the others into the small museum. Keaton had been right. Mr. Malcolm had been more help than she'd thought he would be. Maybe she'd give Keaton a raise.

O

"I liked the part where they showed those old weapons from over the years, what about you Marlene?"

"I liked where they had the dummies dressed in clothing from all the different times! I wish Buttercup could've seen it."

The children chattered the whole ride home about the museum and how nice the professor was. Tifa had to admit that when she met Mrs. Higgins, she had had her doubts about the professor, but he turned out to be pretty nice.

It didn't take long before they reached the house.

Red XIII and Vincent were sitting on the porch when the kids ran up. Denzel sat next to Red on the floor and Marlene looked all around. "Where's Buttercup?"

Red looked up at her. "She's with Cid and Barret at the bar. Shera's helping them translate those letters." Marlene raced off towards the bar and Yuffie decided to follow her.

Tifa climbed the steps and took a seat on the bench next to Vincent. He turned to her. "Did you find out what you wanted?"

"Yes, actually Professor Malcolm was very helpful." She looked off toward the bar to see the whole brigade crossing the grass to come back. When they got close enough to hear each other Shera sighed. "I'm sorry dear; we only finished about half of them."

Tifa smiled and stood. "That's great! There was a lot there. Thanks guys."

Cid grumbled and Barret nodded. "We found out that they weren't letters."

Tifa looked perplexed. "They weren't?"

Barret handed her the cigar box. "They were actually diary entries."

"Well," Tifa said, "I say we go inside and read them so everyone can hear. We can even make some lemonade."

"What an excellent idea," Shera added and they all filed in the door and dispersed about the front room.

But as soon as they entered, Red sniffed the air and squinted. Yuffie looked at him curiously. "Smell something, Red?"

Cid shuffled toward his box of Chesterfields on the coffee table. "Wasn't me."

"Not that kind of smell, Cid." Red gaited into the kitchen. Cid only shrugged and lifted his box of matches; ready to strike one in order to light the cigarette in his mouth. But Vincent set his hand over Cid's.

"I wouldn't do that."

Cid was annoyed, being that he was overdue for a smoke. "Why the hell not?"

Red darted in from the kitchen. "Get the kids out of here! Someone's cut the gas line in the basement!"

-- O --

And Red had been right. After they got Shera and the kids out of the house, Barret turned off the gas. Tifa led them to the gas line, and sure enough, it had been cut clean through.

"But how?" Yuffie whined. "Weren't you guys watching the house?"

Vincent side stepped to one of the windows. It was high up, but it was cracked open. "Here. With the right length of cutters…" He trailed off.

"What I'd like to know is who!" Tifa demanded lividly. "And why!"

Vincent pushed the window open to help let out the toxic gas build-up. "I believe we can probably surmise whom."

"Yeah…I guess you're right."

Cid kicked a rock on the floor angrily. "Well, damn. I'm gonna have to fix that now. Barret, you'd better help me find some electrical tape."

"I'll come too," Yuffie sighed and all three climbed the steep, creaky basement stairs.

"I had better go tell the children to help open the windows," Red stated with a flick of his tail. "This stuff IS poison."

As Red climbed the stairs, Tifa leaned against her dryer. "I don't get it, Vincent. What would Darknation have to gain from killing you?"

Vincent slid open the other basement window. "I don't know."

Tifa looked at her shoes. "We could have been blown up!" Then her voice got very soft. "…even the children." She felt angry tears prick behind her eyes, but managed to keep them at bay.

Vincent crossed over to her and she lifted her eyes to his. "Tifa…I wish that I could tell you I knew everything." He shook his head and his hands flexed at his sides. "But Darknation won't stop until they have what they want, and we don't know what that is any longer. We'll just have to stop them ourselves."

Tifa felt so small and vulnerable. "But how?"

Vincent looked down from Tifa's eyes to study her clasped, trembling hands. Hesitantly, he reached out and took one of her hands into his own. "I will not pretend to know the answer to that as of now, however, we have come through harder times before."

Tifa blushed mildly at the contact and looked down at her hand in his. Somehow she felt a bit stronger. "Thank you, Vincent."

Vincent gave her a weak smile and nodded toward the stairs. "Shall we?"

Tifa gripped his hand tighter. "Of course."

-- O --

8


	11. An Age Old Secret

A Grim History

An Age Old Secret

By: Illusion of the Mirror

It's a strange feeling; knowing that someone hates you enough to kill you. But it's even worse when you don't even know who they are or what you did to make them despise you so avidly. This was the realization that Tifa had come to. True, she had been in situations before when there were enemies that would have ripped her to pieces in their rage and hate, but that was different. Those enemies were tangible beings, and though some of them were unearthly monsters, they weren't nearly as terrifying.

Tifa sighed deeply and sank into one of the front room chairs. Cid and Barret had left to get the supplies needed to repair the cut gas line and to board up the basement windows in order to prevent the same thing from happening again. Yuffie went with them, but only because she had left some of her things in the Shera.

She glanced about the room and stretched her sore arm muscles. She was about to go check up on Shera and the kids, when her eyes fell to the letters sitting on the coffee table. Curiosity took control and she slowly slid out of the chair and situated herself on the floor next to the table. Out of the ten yellowed slips of parchment, only four had been translated. Interestingly enough, all of the translated ones seemed to be in different handwritings. Hadn't it only been Barret, Cid, and Shera? That is, unless Buttercup was one of those writing cats.

"Well," she spoke out loud to herself. "Let's see if Tifa can't get a few more of these done." She grabbed one of the pencils sitting next to her on the table and leaned over her prospect. The symbols weren't all that confusing, and since they had the key, it shouldn't be too hard to translate. Tifa leaned back, tied her thick chocolate locks in a ponytail, and then set to work.

O

Marlene sat across from Denzel on the floor of their room. In truth, she really had no idea what was going on, but she had a feeling it was bad. She looked up at Denzel, who gave her a small smile. "Denzel, I don't understand, why would someone want to blow us up?"

Red XIII, who was lying on one of the children's beds, let out a sniff and then turned his good eye towards the frightened child. "They're bad people, Marlene. They think that we've stolen something from them."

Marlene cocked her head. "But, we didn't. Did we?"

"No. But they don't believe us. They're doing everything they can to get it back."

Denzel scratched the back of his neck. "But why kill us? I mean, I know that they want that talisman thingy, but if we had it, they wouldn't get it back when we were blown to smithereens."

Marlene whimpered and rose to sit next to Red on the bed.

"I don't know what to tell you, Denzel. It'd be nice to have all the answers, but I don't." He flicked his ear as Denzel sat on his other side. "But don't worry. Everything is alright. I won't let those bad guys hurt you." He ended this statement with a protective growl and Marlene giggled as Buttercup ran under the bed in fear. "Oh dear, it seems as though I have frightened our little kitten friend." Red rose and leapt off the bed. "Come on, you two. Let's do something fun."

Marlene leaned under the bed and reappeared with the little cat. "Like what?"

Red grinned deviously. "Like hiding Yuffie's stuffed materia plushes."

O

Tifa sat up straight and gathered all the papers together. That hadn't been all that tough. She glanced up at the clock that was ticking above the mantel. She squinted to see if she was seeing right, but the hands stayed stationary. It had taken her only thirty minutes to translate the remaining six letters. _Hmmm…well, maybe I just have a special talent for working with runes._

She stood and tucked the papers under her arm. They had been interesting to read, and now she wanted to share them with the others. The light outside was fading and she was sure that Yuffie, Cid, and Barret would be done in the basement any minute.

Just then, the front door creaked open and Vincent stepped through. He removed his black leather jacket and draped it over one of the chairs, then he met Tifa's waiting gaze. "No other signs of anything; **anywhere**." He looked out the window and clenched his teeth. "Even the foot prints."

"You mean the ones we found last night!?"

"The very same."

Tifa nearly screamed in frustration. "So we can't even figure out who was prowling around?!" She crossed her arms and stuck out her chin in anger.

Vincent's brows lowered in silent anger and he bit his lip. Tifa sighed and put a hand on Vincent's shoulder; causing him to turn and face her, his muscles tensing nearly imperceptibly at the contact.

"I'm sorry; I know you must be more aggravated than I am." Vincent only grunted and then touched the papers tucked under Tifa's arm.

"Oh yeah, I translated the rest of those letters."

Vincent's eyes widened, if only slightly. "Already?"

"I know, I guess I'm just rune-savvy." She shrugged and then took a small bow. "No applause necessary."

Vincent arced an eyebrow and a ghost of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Alright! That's done! Let's just hope that those boards are enough to keep those sons-of-bitches out of the basement!" Cid stalked into the room and tossed his tools on the couch.

Yuffie rolled her eyes and pushed her way passed the irked pilot. "Well it wouldn't have taken you so long, if you hadn't screwed it up the first time."

Cid spun around and was about to bellow out a retort, but after receiving a warning look from Shera, thought better of it. He simply shrugged and pulled a cigarette out of the box tucked behind his goggles. He looked accusingly at Vincent. "May I?"

Vincent was in no mood for sarcasm or wry remarks. He didn't even give Cid the benefit of his annoyance. "Be my guest," he stated flatly although his eyes sent fire in the pilot's direction.

Cid plopped in one of the chairs and set his boots on the coffee table. "Geez, Valentine, what's got your panties in a wad?"

Tifa flinched and half expected Vincent to draw his gun and shoot the lighted cigarette right out of Cid's hand, but all he did was grunt and turn back to the window.

Tifa suddenly remembered the letters she was holding. "Oh yeah, I have those letters done. Oh, and you were right Shera. They were diary entries."

Barret pulled a chair over from the dining room and took a seat. "Well, what are you waitin' for? Let's hear 'em."

As if on cue, Red came trotting down the stairs. Yuffie gave him a suspicious look. "What were you doing up there for so long?"

Red shrugged and sat next to her on the floor. "Talking to the kids about school."

Yuffie wasn't convinced, especially after he had revealed her most ticklish spot earlier that day. "Uh-huh," she replied suspiciously.

"Fine, you don't have to believe me. So Barret, they have this week off?"

"Yeah. Teacher's in service or somethin' like that."

Shera piped up. "Tifa is going to read us the letters."

Nanaki blinked. "They're done? Well okay. I'm all ears."

Cid rolled his eyes. "Yes, golly gee wilikers, Tifa! Tell us a story!"

Yuffie giggled at Cid's high voice and received a look from Shera. "You're only encouraging him, dear."

Tifa cleared her throat and they all looked at her. "Shall I begin?" She received no answer but Shera and Yuffie sat next to each other on the couch. "Alrighty then…"

"_Oh, but today was a happy day! I felt the baby kick. I have become so anxious I can hardly contain myself. And yet, amid all my excitement over the coming baby, I have been given yet another assignment. Nathaniel feels it is necessary for me to aid the Howells family in getting to the countryside. True, I have been helping them to hide in town so that their children would be able to attend school, but The King's Men have discovered their identity and now they are marked. I am to help them flee to the woods where they shall meet Grace Royal as so many others have already done. I am regretful that they could not stay, besides being good friends, their eldest, Marguerite, is sixteen and has fallen in love but now has to leave. To think that I am only two years her senior! I hope that when Seth arrives home tonight he will bring good news. His father has taken ill, and though I have no strong love for Sebastian, I know how dearly Seth cares for his adoptive father. I must go now, for Timothy is in need of attention."_

Tifa looked up at the others and they all seemed to be wrapped in her readings. She sat in the free chair and moved on to the next entry.

"_I have not been able to write for these past days in the fear that Seth might see. It grieves me to keep my connection to the Resistance from him, but Nathaniel has the final word on all things. Nathaniel has certainly been trying lately, for he is near to discovering the identities of the leaders of The King's Men. He has become quite irritable with the anticipation. He is even more demanding than usual! How strange it is to me, dear Diary. I have the Gift, and yet, Nathaniel is the leader. True, I am not yet eighteen, but my grandmother was but fourteen when she assumed leadership of the Resistance. But I must not dwell on these thoughts. Nathaniel is as wise as he is cross. I trust him."_

Yuffie looked completely confused. "Alright, who are all these people?" Tifa only shrugged. "They're from the past." Yuffie straightened. "Well, this proves that the Resistance is real. The professor was wrong."

Cid knocked his ashes into the ashtray on the side table next to him. "Why don't ya quit your gabbin' an' let her finish?"The ninja huffed as she crossed her arms and hunched into the couch cushion.

"_Seth has not been arriving home until very late. Even though Timothy tries to stay up and wait for his father, he never is able to. I am becoming worried. Seth says his father's illness has worsened and he has been staying late to help with the family business. While it's true that I now have more time to conduct business for the Resistance, I still miss my husband terribly. I do hope that once the baby is born, he will come home. I received word that the Howells family reached safety yesterday. I do hope that they can start a better, but more importantly, secret life. The King's Men have been searching for us. I can feel their desperation through the Talisman. I have told Nathaniel so and Dimitri tells me they are very close to finding the leaders. I hope that we will find out soon."_

Tifa scrunched her nose. She hadn't read these yet, despite the fact she had translated them. But it had been letter by letter. These entries were confusing. "So, apparently, this woman, Marie Wolfe, was married to some guy named Seth whose dad was sick?" Yuffie queried.

Tifa set down the pages she'd already read. "Apparently."

Vincent stepped away from the window and stood behind Tifa's chair. "She writes of a group called The King's Men. What do you suppose that is?"

Tifa brushed her bangs out of her face. "Maybe we'll find out later." Vincent motioned for her to continue.

"_I am so very angry! First, I read an article in the paper that was telling the public about how the Resistance is a group of thieves! The King's Men are swaying the public's opinion with their lies and are gaining popularity. But that is not even the worst news. Nathaniel has come to me and told me that he had discovered who the leader of The King's Men is. I was excited to hear until he made his ludicrous claim. He believes that my father-in-law, Sebastian, is him! That would mean that Seth is somehow involved as well. I cannot believe this. I will not! He is my husband and the father of my children. I will not turn on him."_

"Oh how awful!" Shera exclaimed. "She's not even eighteen!" Tifa had nothing to say and only kept going.

"_Today I intercepted a letter for Seth. I am so very afraid, for it was proof of his involvement with The King's Men. Not only is he a member, he is training to become its leader! I do not know what to do. The very man I sleep next to each night is my sworn enemy! But even in my confusion, Nathaniel means to use me. He wishes for me to pry into this matter, and find The King's Men's plans. But I fear this is not wise. I have nightmares of running with Timothy through the woods. I feel a sense of foreboding, as though I shall not survive. I wish that my grandmamma were still here. She would know."_

"_I cannot live this way. Each night I sleep in fear. My enemy plays with my child each morning. And now, I have discovered his plans. While Seth was absent, I went through his roll-top desk and I read of his father's condition and orders. It is as Nathaniel feared. We are all marked for death! Sebastian has become mad in his old age and with his illness. He wishes to obtain the Talisman and wield it. If he knew that I possessed it, I cannot think what would happen. Seth and Kale, his wretched younger brother, have been recording the names of the members of the Resistance and are searching for me! The one with the Gift! I shall tell Dimitri and Nathaniel of these things on the marrow, for I know not what else to do."_

"Hm," Nanaki began. "Kale? Isn't that the name of the leader of Darknation? Is it possible they're related?"

Vincent crossed his arms. "It is feasible."

Tifa looked up from the writings. Nightmares of running through the woods. That was all too familiar. And what of this gift she kept mentioning? Did it have to do with the nightmares? Also, she talks about the talisman as though she had it with her. Is that even possible? Tifa looked up and noticed that everyone else in the room was watching her with puzzled expressions. She suddenly remembered that none of them knew about the nightmares.

"Sorry about that. Just thinking," she said with a nervous chuckle. Then she began the next entry.

"_Dimitri and the other members of the O'Connor clan have come to the conclusion that I am to flee as I have helped so many others to do. Even Nathaniel feels the time has come for my assignment to end. If I am discovered sneaking about, they would soon find my identity. I am to take my son and run away. Before Seth departed this morning, he told me that he loves me. I am broken. How can he love who he does not know? And I do not know him. To think that his kind is responsible for the death of my dear parents…I cannot stay. I will flee."_

"_I have fallen ill with worry. We now have made the arrangements for my escape. Nathaniel and Dimitri are going to make it look as though Timothy and I have died. I am now counting the days. I act as though I am alright and Seth is none the wiser, but my nightmares have worsened and I dream of pain and death. We have verified their plans to revive the bloodstone. Sebastian truly is mad if he believes he can wield it. The power would be his demise just as it was Sloan's. The Talisman has been restless and I know we must leave soon lest I be discovered. If that were to happen, all would be for not."_

"Sloan!"Yuffie interjected. "That's what the professor said the name of the evil king was!"

Tifa hadn't remembered that. "You're right, Yuf."

Yuffie beamed with pride until Cid spoke up. "How many of these do we have left?"

Tifa looked down. "Only two." She could take a hint and wasted no time on beginning the next one.

"_This is the escape plan: I am to steal out of the house with Timothy under the cover that we are going for a walk. We will travel to the river and meet Grace. She will take us to the mountain village. Nathaniel and Dimitri will leave mine and Timothy's clothing torn on the bank, so as to make them believe that we had drowned. But I am afraid that we will be caught. I can feel my health failing each day, though I am loathe to tell the others. I will bear it, for I would not risk all our lives over a simple cold."_

"_Tonight I shall leave this place. I do not know how Seth will take our supposed demise, but I try to think only on the baby. I know she will be a girl, for I can feel it in the Talisman and in my heart. But now, dear Diary, I sit and wait with worry. I know not if our plan will work, but this I do know; I must try. I have developed a cough now, but Nathaniel tells me it is due to nerves. I hope he is right, but I still feel the shadow in my heart. I will hide these last pages in the armoire since I cannot risk Seth finding the secret room. We only have three short hours until I am to depart. Goodbye, dear Diary. You have been my most trusted friend."_

Cid crushed his finished cigarette in the ashtray. "That it?" Tifa nodded and set the diary pages aside.

Vincent rubbed his chin. "You found these in the armoire, correct?" Tifa nodded again. "So then that would mean-"

"That this was the house that Marie lived in!" Yuffie jumped up in excitement. "She talked about a secret room. Maybe it's still around!"

"A secret room? Cool!"

Everyone turned to the source of the voice and saw Marlene and Denzel sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Denzel grinned sheepishly, realizing that his outburst had given them away and Marlene hit him with her stuffed tiger. "Denzel!"

Barret stood and crossed over to them. "Aren't you two supposed to be in bed?"

Denzel stood and looked at Red. "No one ever told us to."

Marlene pulled Buttercup from her seat on a stair and stood. "It's true!" By now, everyone in the room was standing. Denzel stuffed his hands in his pockets looked hopeful. "Can we help look for the secret room?"

Tifa laughed. "I don't see why not! You two could be a lot of help!"

"YES!!" Marlene and Denzel shouted in chorus.

O

And so, the whole group split up in order to search the house; Barret and Marlene took the basement, Cid and Shera the main floor, Red and Denzel took the second floor, and Yuffie and Tifa went up into the attic. She didn't know where Vincent had gone; he had disappeared from the room before they had a chance to divide up.

Tifa reached up and pulled the string hanging from the attic door and the ladder folded down to land at her feet. "Why do **we** have to search the musty old attic?" Yuffie complained. Tifa only suppressed a giggle and helped the girl up the last few stairs.

"Because, Yuffie, everyone's out to get you."

Yuffie glared at Tifa as she clicked on the attic light. "Real funny."

They set to searching the attic. They moved aside the boxes and crates and searched all along the walls, but found nothing.

"Well this has been terribly fun, but I think that I'm done now." Yuffie shoved the box she was holding back into its place and turned to leave. But she was stopped when she nearly ran into Vincent, who had just reached the top of the ladder. "Oh, hey Vinny…er I mean Vincent. We just looked, there's nothing here."

Vincent only moved past her and strode over to one of the corners of the attic. He then began walking along the wall, making note of the paces that he carefully executed. Tifa and Yuffie watched in complete confusion until Tifa realized that Vincent was measuring the dimensions of the room. _Wow…I hadn't even thought of that_.

Once Vincent had reached the second corner on the wall next to the armoire he stopped. "Hmm…"

Tifa walked over and joined him. "What is it, Vincent?"

Vincent looked up at her smugly. "Just as I said when we were up here before, the dimensions don't match." He placed a hand gently against the wall and knocked. "I'll bet you that if there is a secret room in this house, it's behind this wall."

Yuffie, who was watching them from her seat on one of the larger boxes, spoke up. "But how do we get back there?"

Tifa blinked, and then an idea poked at the confines of her mind. She reached out and pulled the doors of the large armoire open. She then ran her hand along the back until she felt a break in the wood. She pushed in and there was a loud clicking noise.

Yuffie stood and stared at Tifa in perfect bewilderment. "How'd you know about that?"

Tifa backed up and looked at her dust-covered hand. "I'm not sure." She then noticed that there was a gap that had opened up between the back of the armoire and the wall. Both she and Vincent peered inside.

It was completely dark. Vincent turned around and addressed the fidgeting ninja to his left. "Yuffie, go tell the others we've found it."

Yuffie snapped to attention and gave Vincent an exaggerated salute. "Aye, aye, sir!"

Tifa looked up at Vincent. "Should we wait for the others?"

Vincent only smirked and pulled the armoire farther from the wall. "We should.

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, which he flicked on. They couldn't see very far into the room, but Tifa could make out what looked to be a desk. Vincent took a step inside and Tifa followed. "What is this place?" she uttered and then she suddenly felt a great pressure on her head, as though someone was taking both sides and squeezing. She put a hand to her temple and nearly fell over as the room seemed to reel about.

Vincent sensed a change in her breathing and turned around. "Tifa?"

Tifa reached out and grabbed his arm for support as a loud ringing started up in her ears. She closed her eyes tightly and could suddenly hear all manner of noises. Hoof beats, shouting, explosions, a woman crying, water rushing, thunder rolling, screaming; they all bombarded her with an intensity that threatened to crush her. She let out a loud scream as she began wildly thrashing until she plummeted to the floor holding her head in her arms.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she screamed over and over, but the ringing only magnified until suddenly, it ceased. Immediately the pressure alleviated and all the noises with it.

Tifa opened her eyes to find herself cradled in Vincent's arms. The expression on his face was contorted with concern and curiosity. "Tifa," he spoke gently. "What just happened?"

She whimpered held a hand to her forehead. All the others were standing around them in a circle; fear and worry radiating off of them in waves. She felt tears well up in her eyes as she buried her face in Vincent's steady shoulder. "I wish I knew."

O

9


	12. Dust and Candles

A Grim History

Dust and Candles

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Tifa breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart and stop its loud beating in her ears. She was scared; no, she was terrified, and she could only imagine what was going through the other's minds; what was going through **Vincent's** mind.

Vincent shifted slightly as she backed away and lifted her eyes but wouldn't meet his. She knew he awaited an explanation; **anything **to explain what had just happened. But Tifa didn't even know herself. She lifted a trembling hand to her temple and let her lips curl into a weak smile.

"It's okay, I'm fine now," she mumbled so that only Vincent could hear.

She looked up from her kneeling position on the attic floor to see Marlene standing there with a question resonating in her light-hearted eyes. Tifa looked around to see them all wearing expressions that illustrated the same thing; "What's wrong with Tifa?"

Tifa realized that they were waiting for her to do something, although she had no idea what. So she took a deep breath and rose to her feet. She shook her head, brushed her hair from her face, and flashed what she hoped looked like a sincere smile.

"Well **that **was weird! Whoo!"

Cid looked at Shera, who looked at Barret, who looked at Red, who looked at Vincent. Obviously they all wanted to know what to do next. Tifa decided for them and strode past a very confused Yuffie to the armoire. She peered behind the antique piece of furniture. "So…did anyone bring a flashlight?"

Cid stepped forward and slapped a flashlight into her hand but he didn't release his grip on the other end. "What the hell was that all about?"

Tifa shrugged. "Sorry about that. You see, I've developed this raging dust allergy. It gives me this awful headache and stuff." She guessed that the others probably hadn't seen her whole…episode. But Vincent had. She didn't even brave a glance at him.

Cid raised an eyebrow and sniffed. "**Dust **allergy? Well, that's a sudden development."

Yuffie slapped Tifa on the shoulder with a boisterous laugh, her features split with a wide grin. "Yeah right! I bet she ran into a bunch of bats again and freaked out!"

Marlene took a step back. "B-bats?"

Denzel gripped both of her shoulders and leaned to her left. "Either that or rats."

Marlene let out a strangled sob and ran to Barret, tugging on his hand. "Daddy, I don't like bats!"

Barret immediately began to assure Marlene that bats were nothing to be afraid of while Shera scolded Denzel for insisting they were. It didn't help when Cid chimed in and added that they were good with barbeque sauce.

"That's nasty, Cid! You're nasty!"

Cid laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. "What is it, Princess Priss? Don't like bat-jerky? Or maybe some bat-kabobs."

Red cocked his head. "That actually sounds kind of good."

Yuffie made a face and huffed. "You're **both** nasty."

Thankful for the all the distraction from her little episode, Tifa turned gradually and clicked on the flashlight so she could see into the ominous room. She hoped that the others believed she had just been afraid of bats…even though it was kind of a sissy thing to be scared of.

The space beyond the wardrobe was not very large at all; amounting to only about seven by ten feet. The ceiling sloped with the roof and made the room even smaller. Against the outer wall stood an old desk that was scattered with papers, pens, photographs, and books; all of which was covered in a thick layer of gray dust. Tifa moved farther into the room and gawked with amazement at the oddity of it all.

"Wow," she mused. "This was here all along and I never even knew it." She stepped away from the light of the main room to examine an antique bookshelf holding notes and literature of all kinds. She reached up to pull one down and cracked it open to read the title. _Boudica the Victorious, hmm, interesting._

Yuffie poked her head in the entryway and crinkled her nose. "Geez, it's musty in here. Hey!" Cid pushed past her and put his hands on his hips. "No kiddin'." He drew a finger across the desk, drawing a line in the dusty blanket that covered it. "Looks like no one's been here in ages."

"That depends on where you're looking." Both Cid and Tifa turned to Vincent who was crouching next to a stack of boxes. _Wait, when did he get in here?_ Tifa shone her light in his direction and spotted exactly what he had. There, in the layer of ancient dust, were outlines of foot prints that were definitely **not** ancient.

**Someone** knew about this place.

"Tifa," Yuffie whined from the doorway. "Only three people can fit in there at once. When do I get to see?"

"Yeah," Marlene echoed. "But…are there any bats?"

"Hold your horses!" Cid bellowed and then knelt to inspect the prints as well with a twinkle visible in his aging, blue eyes. Vincent stood and began inspecting the wall, while Tifa leaned down to read the label on the neatly stacked, and more notably dust free, boxes.

_Bordeaux Candles._ She lifted one of the lids and peered inside to see the box was separated into a dozen sections; each one filled with a red wax candle. She pulled one out to discover it was actually about a foot in length and was expertly carved with a grapevine winding down its length. She gently dropped it back into place and pulled out another. This one had ethereal mermaids carved into it, their flowing tresses wrapping round their scaled bodies. They were the work of a skilled artist and were really quite beautiful. She replaced the second candle and set the lid back into place with a kind of reverence.

Unexpectedly, she heard a metallic grinding sound behind her. She turned to see Vincent standing in front of a second opening in the walls of the small room, obviously pleased with his find. He turned Cid and simply said, "Stairs."

"What?!" Yuffie shouted. "What was that sound?!"

"What's goin' on?" Barret asked from the main room. Vincent looked to Cid. "Will you tell the others what we've found?"

"Why don't you do it?" Cid huffed. He received an icy glare in return. "Okay, fine, shit Valentine, why do you gotta be so serious all the time?"

Once Cid turned away to explain to the others, Vincent looked directly at Tifa, he held out a hand to her. "May I?" Tifa nodded and passed him the flashlight. Together, they then began to descend the steep, and quite cramped, staircase; Tifa a few steps behind as Vincent led the way.

The steps were thin and Tifa nearly lost her balance more than once until she placed her hand against the wall for support. Vincent's eyes darted back to her hand, but then quickly returned to the task before him.

He then stopped abruptly and Tifa nearly collided with him.

"What is it?" She was answered by another metallic grinding sound as the wall opened up to reveal the forest and the clear, black, starry sky. The two stepped outside and blinked in the bright moonlight. Tifa looked down.

"This is where those intruder's footprints were the other night."

Vincent glanced down and then gave a nod of affirmation. He locked eyes with her. "So it appears we now know why the intruders came here."

"So whoever they are, they know about the secret room," Tifa finished. "But are they Darknation or someone else?"

Just then, Cid and Shera stumbled out of the stairwell. "Damn those are steep! I almost broke my neck!"

Yuffie, Marlene, and Barret were the next three down. It was a tight squeeze for Barret and he had nothing good to say about the experience. Lastly, Denzel and Red descended.

Red looked around and sniffed the air. "So now we know what's here…but we need to determine why it's here?"

Vincent let the door to the staircase click shut and then turned to face them. The moonlight shone on his pale face and looked almost ghostly. "Indeed. What is this room's purpose?"

Shera laid a hand on both Vincent's and Tifa's shoulders. "Well, I think we all need to get some rest. Hopefully things will be clearer in the morning."

Barret mumbled his agreement and Yuffie let out an embellished yawn. Tifa, however, was certain she wouldn't be getting much sleep that night.

-- O --

Tifa sat alone in her dark room with the curtains drawn and the ceiling fan on. She lay flat on her back amongst her fluffy pillows unable to sleep because of the over-activity of her muddled mind. She desperately needed rest, but she found it impossible to do so. She closed her eyes and laid her arm across them. Everyone had seemed appeased by her allergic reaction/bat phobia claim, but what had really happened?

A slight shuffling sound drew her from her thoughts and her eyes shot open to scan the room for intruders. She sat up and slowly surveyed the room, but she could see nothing in the inky darkness. Then a solitary car passed by on the road and the light from the headlights quickly illuminated the room to reveal a darkly clothed figure leaning in the corner. It took her only moments to realize who it was, but he had frightened her nonetheless. "Oh, Vincent, you scared me," she whispered.

Vincent slid away from the wall and seated himself in the chair by Tifa's vanity. "If you are so very allergic to dust, shouldn't you have told me before we cleaned out the attic?" His voice was cold and Tifa knew he was calling her bluff. She weighed her options and decided to tell Vincent the truth. Sure, he may not believe her, sure, he may think she was completely off her rocker, but he had had his own experience with nightmares. Besides, she desperately wanted to understand what was going on. Maybe talking it all out would help.

Tifa sighed and crawled to the end of her bed and planted herself there. "I'm not allergic to dust, Vincent." She looked down at her crossed legs. "But I think that's what you were getting at."

Vincent's voice remained cool as he spoke in a clipped manner that made Tifa wince. "Then will you tell me what really happened?" She instantly regretted lying to the others. She hesitated and played with her fingernails.

"Vincent," she began softly, "I'm…I'm sorry I lied. It's just that…I don't even really know what's going on. I've been so afraid that I'm…" She trailed off and bit her lip. "…that I'm going crazy."

Vincent sat forward and his scarlet eyes flashed in the darkness. "Why?"

_Well…too late to turn back now._ "I've been hearing…voices." _Now __**that**__ didn't sound totally insane._

"When? For how long?"

"Well, I don't know. It started during my nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

Tifa uncrossed her legs and rubbed her knees. "**Nightmare** actually. It's always the same one with only little changes."

Now she could tell that she had Vincent's rapt attention. "Whenever it storms, I always have this nightmare about running through the woods while someone's chasing me. I don't know who. I always trip on this same rock and then I wake up." She fidgeted with the corner of her quilt. "But each time the dream gets longer and more real; more terrifying. And then…"She paused and met Vincent's curious gaze. "Then I began hearing these noises."

Vincent's voice was much softer when he spoke next. "What kind of noises?"

"Like hoof beats or screaming or fire burning. It happened first when I found the letters and I felt all tingly like someone was poking me all over with thousands of tiny needles. Then it happened again when we were in the attic. But that time was so much worse because my head started aching and there was this horrible ringing noise that just kept getting louder and louder." Tifa sighed and set her hands in her lap. "That sounds totally crazy, right?"

Vincent sat on the edge of the chair and narrowed his eyes up at her. "No," he finally said. "Not at all." Tifa let out a sigh of relief. "But why did you not tell us of this earlier?"

"I'm not sure. I just…thought it was all in my head and wasn't important." She looked down once again. "I'm sorry."

Vincent's hard expression softened, if only slightly, and he rose to seat himself beside her. She turned to face him and then leaned forward to embrace him. "What's wrong with me, Vincent?" she murmured into his chest. Vincent stiffened but then raised a hand and began stroking the back of her head.

"I don't believe that there's anything wrong with you. There's more to this then we now know. And you are most definitely not insane."

Tifa sat back and gave Vincent a weak, yet sincere, smile. "I sure hope you're right."

-- O --

Denzel lay silently atop his bed, sporadically slipping in and out of consciousness. Light seeped through the cracks in the curtains to reveal tiny flecks of white dust floating about the room. He liked it here; suspended in a state of half-dream, half-reality. He had the sanctity of his reverie and yet could feel the real world around him. He was floating between one world and another; barely standing on the border of wake and sleep.

But it was not to last, for a very upset Marlene burst into the room and ran over to the beds. She bent to look under them and her movement caused the lazy dust particles suspended in the air to jump into action.

Now completely awake, Denzel groaned and sat up. "What is it, Marlene? I was asleep." Marlene looked up at Denzel with watery brown eyes. "I can't find Buttercup anywhere!" She stood and wiped her tearstained face with the back of her hand a sob threatening to pour out.

Denzel drew back his sheets and got to his feet. He sighed and draped an arm over her trembling shoulders. "C'mon, I'll help you look for her."

-- O --

Although it was still late summer, the air carried a chill with it that wasn't enough to make one need extra clothing, but was enough to give you that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach like something isn't right.

Tifa pondered this as she traversed the yard towards Seventh Heaven. It was only about 7:00 in the morning, but Tifa had woken up after about three hours of fitful sleep and decided she was sick of trying. So now she was going to check out the bar and see if everything was in order. She had nothing better to do.

She strode around toward the front entrance and suddenly felt a shiver run up her spine as a thick, dark cloud passed in front of the sun. The hair on the back of her neck stood up when she set her eyes on the front door of the bar. Something was stuck to the front of the door at about eye level.

Tifa cautiously approached and realized it was a piece of red-stained paper. It was nailed to the door with a metal spike so that Tifa had to tear it off to unfold it. The writing was carefully scratched out in thick, black ink.

**Get out now. Take your friends, your children, and leave before you end up suffering the same fate.**

_The same fate? _Tifa looked left and right. _The same fate as what?_ She looked back down at the paper and turned it over in her hands. There was nothing on the other side although she was pretty sure she knew who it was from. But…what exactly were they referring to?

_Creak, drip drip drip. _Tifa turned around. Something had made a dripping noise. She looked down at her feet and discovered that the wooden floorboards were splattered with something. She bent down to get a closer look. _Blood? Surely not… _Slowly Tifa stood and then looked up at the porch roof. A small, red-soaked sack swung from the rafters about two feet above Tifa's head.

_Creak, drip drip drip._ A single drop of liquid dripped onto Tifa's cheek. She wiped it off with the back of her hand and glanced down at her feet. It had gotten on her shoes too. She looked back up and the whole world seemed to melt away from her as she reached up and untied the sack from the rope from which it hung. Her movements were automatic as though she was in a trance and even though she wanted to know what was inside, she didn't all the same. But as she got the knot undone, she lost hold of the sack and it fell to the floor, its contents spilling out.

A silent scream escaped from Tifa's lips as the unrecognizable body of a skinned and twisted kitten came to rest at her feet. Its lidless eyes stared up at her as blood pooled beneath its raw corpse. Tifa screamed again and flung herself to the porch stairs to race blindly back towards the house.

-- O --

"Sorry, honey, I haven't seen Buttercup since last night. Maybe she's hiding under the bed."

Marlene's face fell. "Oh, no I already checked."

Denzel was really starting to get worried now. They had looked everywhere and had asked everyone where the little kitten was. Marlene was battling tears. "Don't worry, Marlene. We'll find her."

Just then, there was a frantic knocking at the door. Denzel was the closest, so he rushed over and flung the door open. Tifa burst through and collapsed at the boy's feet. She looked up at him with terror in her eyes.

"Vincent…where's Vincent!?" she managed to get out between gasps for air.

"Over here," Vincent replied and stalked over to Tifa. She rose to her feet, but her knees wobbled precariously, so she leaned over to steady them.

"What is it? What happened?" Cid and Barret had already risen from their seats on the couch and were ready for a fight.

"Buttercup…bar…Darknation," Tifa managed to spit out. Vincent's eyes widened and then all three men raced out the front door. Marlene and Denzel attempted to follow, but Tifa caught hold of them.

"Let me go! I gotta get Buttercup!"Marlene squirmed in protest. But Denzel was beginning to understand. He backed away from Tifa and shut the door. Marlene looked at him with wide eyes. "Denzel!"

He only shook his head and met Tifa's exhausted, wild, and now, tearing eyes. "No, Marlene. Not this time."

-- O --

Tifa sighed as Shera passed her a steaming mug of hot chocolate. "Careful, dear, it's very hot." Tifa nodded and took a cautious sip. She had had quite the scare earlier and now nothing could seem to calm her nerves, not even a cup of hot cocoa. Now, the whole group sat in the dining room with grim faces and heavy hearts. Marlene sobbed silently into Barret's chest, while Denzel sat on the floor next to Red XIII and staring into space.

Vincent tossed the blood stained note onto the table and then crossed his arms. No one said a word. Even Yuffie was silent. What could be said? The message was cut and dry; leave now or die. Shera seated herself next to Cid and leaned into his shoulder.

Unable to stand the tense silence any longer, Yuffie pushed back her chair and leaned forward. "So what now?"

The others remained quiet until Shera responded. "We leave, of course. We can't stay."

Barret stroked Marlene's hair and looked up. "I'd say that's probably our best option."

"You mean give up?" Yuffie cut in. "I mean, why would Darknation even bother to tell us to leave? We must be on to something!"

Red flicked his ears in thought. "Yes. Until now, Darknation has been trying to kill us. Why spare us now?"

Shera sat up straight. "Why does it matter? We should be grateful for this chance to escape with our lives."

"But what if Darknation's just trying to scare us into leaving so that we don't figure out, well, whatever it is they don't want us to figure out?" Yuffie pronounced.

Tifa set down her mug of cocoa. "Yuffie's right. Darknation suddenly went from trying to kill us to being intimidated by us for some reason. We can't just run away."

Barret glanced down at the broken-hearted girl in his arms. "No way am I lettin' them hurt Marlene and Denzel again. They can't stay here."

"But what's to stop Darknation from burning this place to the ground? This is Tifa's home!"

Vincent turned to Yuffie. "I agree." Then he turned to face the others. "Darknation has already attempted to kill us once. It is obvious they do not value our lives. What we need to know is why they suddenly have lost interest in us."

Cid spoke up. "Prolly won't even spare us. Those guys never keep their word anyways." He fiddled with his nearly empty package of Chesterfields. "I'd say we must be onto somethin', although I got no friggin' idea what."

Red sniffed and glanced at Denzel. "But Barret's right. The children can't stay here." This resulted in nods all around. "Well then, it would seem we have only one option; send Shera and the children away to a place where they'll be safe."

Cid grunted. "They could go back to Rocket Town."

He looked down at Shera and she gave him a worried look. "Are you sure you'll be okay here?" Cid put an arm around the brunette's shoulders.

"Me? Nah, I'm always okay. I'd be more worried about those other pansies."

"But I don't want to leave you guys," Denzel protested. "I want to stay and fight too."

"I know," Red answered. "But it's not safe for Shera and Marlene to be alone. You'll need to protect them." Denzel glanced at Marlene as she tried to stop her tears and be strong like the others. He watched her tremble in her father's arms. He then looked back at Red and sighed.

"Okay."

Cid pushed back his chair and stretched. "Well, I'll call Parker and Talbot at the shop and have 'em watch after ya. I'll try to get Evans to come out and take ya back home." He turned to Tifa. "Ya got a phone in this place?"

"Yeah, in the kitchen by the door." Cid exited the room, the smoke from his lighted cigarette trailing behind him. 

Marlene looked up at Barret with moist, frightened eyes. "Are you staying here, Daddy?" He placed a protective hand on the girl's head.

"Yeah, but don't worry, I'll be safe."

Tifa couldn't sit in there in that room anymore. She just couldn't. She rose and slipped out of the room unnoticed in the shadows. Even though it was late morning, it was dark as night outside. No doubt it would rain soon.

Once safely in her room, Tifa collapsed onto her bed and buried her face in her blankets. Things were only getting more and more confusing and it scared her. First Darknation wanted the talisman from Vincent, but then they changed their minds and wanted to kill them all. Now they were going to spare them? Why? What was going on that Tifa and the others didn't know about?

She rolled over onto her side and heard the all too familiar sound of thunder booming in the distance. _Ah, so I was right._ She rose from the bed and crossed over to her window. It seemed so often that she stood up there just gazing out the window. She sighed as the first raindrops pattered against the window pane and the roof. _How fitting that it should start to rain now._ Tifa let her forehead fall against the cool glass pane.

Poor Marlene, she had loved that kitten so very much. So had Denzel. She just couldn't get the image of its lidless, lifeless eyes peering up at her as if to beseech her for help. She clenched her teeth. Those monsters would pay for every tear they made that sweet, innocent girl cry, even if she had to see to it herself.

Just then, Tifa heard a faint buzzing noise. She turned around and realized it was her cell phone. She rushed over to her dresser and dug around her purse. _Stupid receipts! Move out of the way…please don't hang up…_ Eventually she got fed up and dumped the contents out onto her bed. She then picked up the small, black device. The phone continued to vibrate as she examined the sub LCD. She didn't recognize the number.

She flicked open the cell phone and held it up to her ear. "Hello?" There was only silence. "Hello? Who is this?" Still only silence. Tifa clicked the phone shut angrily. She was in no mood for this. The phone began to vibrate in her hand. She flicked it open once more. "Okay, enough games, who is this?!"

"Hey Tifa, it's Cloud."

-- O --

10


	13. Reliving the Past

A Grim History

Reliving the Past

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"C-cloud?" Tifa stammered.

"Yeah," the familiar voice on the other side of the line answered. "Are you alright? You sound…I didn't wake you up did I?"

"Um…no, no you didn't. Did you just call a minute ago?"

"No…why?"

"No reason." Tifa sat on her bed and held the phone with her shoulder so she could play with her fingernails. "Gee, I haven't heard from you in a **long** time."

The line was silent for a moment. "Yeah, it has been a while, hasn't it? Look Tifa, I've been really busy is all."

Tifa scoffed. "Oh that's fine, Cloud. I mean, I'm sure you've had more important things to do."

"Tifa, please don't be that way. I – no, I'm on the phone with her right now…actually…okay, fine. Sorry about that."

_About what? Oh yeah, that thing you always do where you totally disregard me!_ Tifa grimaced to herself and bit her tongue to avoid speaking her mind. "Who was that?"

"Er…Emily. That's what I was calling about." _Emily? Ah yes, Cloud's new girlfriend._ The undertone in Cloud's voice changed from reluctant to confident. "You see, I was talking to her about how you bought that place out in the country, and she told me that she would love to come see it."

Tifa's mouth fell open. "You mean, like, visit?"

"Well, yeah. Apparently it's a historical landmark and Em's big into history."

_Em, huh? So you've given her a nickname. How cute. _Tifa held the phone with a clenched fist and spoke through gritted teeth. "You just want to show up here today without any planning and just visit?"

"Well, that's the idea, say Tifa, are you feeling alright?"

Tifa let out a heated sigh. On a good day she would still have trouble conversing with Cloud, but now she was **really** struggling. "…no, Cloud. No I'm not."

Cloud's voice filled with genuine worry. "Has something happened? Are you hurt? Is there anyone there with you?"

Tifa held in an exasperated scream and opted to simply crack her knuckles. "Yes, and it's a long story, no, I'm not hurt **anymore**, and yes, **everyone's** here." _Except for you._

"Everyone?"

_That's right, except for you._ "Yeah, Yuffie, Red, Cid, Vincent; they've all been here for a while."

"Cloud," she heard a high voice in the background say. "You look upset, is something wrong?"

"Tifa," Cloud began with determination, "maybe we should come over now so you can explain what's going on in person."

_Hell no, you jerk! How could you expect to be included in my business again just like that?!_ "Sure, whatever, Cloud."

"Alright, we'll leave right away, oh, and Tifa? I'm sorry."

Tifa's eyes widened. "Sorry for what?" But the line had already been disconnected. "That's right. You are sorry, you friggin' coward," Tifa murmured to the dial tone.

So what had just happened? She told Cloud he could come over. Why the hell did she do that? She clicked the phone shut and tossed it over her shoulder onto the bed. _Great, this just what I need; more stress._ She shook her head and flopped onto her back.

"Okay Tifa, get a hold of yourself. Maybe it won't be so bad." She sighed dejectedly and rolled onto her side. "Yeah right, and maybe Cid will quit smoking and Yuffie will become a nun."

Cloud had sounded genuinely worried about her, she gave him that, but did he seriously think that after walking out on them like he did he could just show up and be right back in their lives like nothing ever happened? And what did he say he was sorry for? Did he really think that after all the hell he put her through that would fix it?! She sat up and rolled her eyes. Did it really even matter?

Well, he was coming now with her permission whether she liked it or not. She figured she'd better tell the others. She rose from her bed and went out into the hall. She could hear Shera in the other room helping the kids to pack.

"Okay, sweetie, fold it up nice and small. There, you've got it. Marlene, don't forget your stuffed Tiger."

Tifa felt a slight pang in her chest at the mention of the young girl and quickly passed the room to descend the stairs. She nearly collided with Cid at the bottom.

"Whoa, hey, sorry. I didn't see ya there."Cid scratched the top of his head. "Yeah, so I got a hold of the guys at the shop. I was just goin' up to look for ya, in fact. But anyway, they're gonna come pick up Shera and the kids tomorrow."

Tifa sighed and then remembered her task. "Oh, by the way, Cloud called. He's paying us a visit."

Cid stiffened and did a sort of double take. "What?"

Tifa dismissed it with a wave of her hand. "No big deal. He just wants to find out what's new."

Cid caught her dripping sarcasm and shut his gaping mouth. "Well I'll be damned. He disappears off the face of the planet for six months and then shows back up to talk?!"

Tifa turned back to him. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

Cid scoffed as Yuffie entered the room. "Well, geez, don't act so happy to see me, Cid."

"Did ya hear? Cloud's comin' for a visit."

"Cloud? When? Why?" She glanced at Tifa as though she expected her to burst into tears or something. Tifa resented that.

"He just called. He wants to know what's going on since I wouldn't tell him over the phone."

"This is an interesting turn of events." Tifa looked down to see Red at her feet. "Methinks Cloud is feeling a bit out of the loop."

"Well, it's his own fault," Yuffie added. She had resented Cloud's disappearance almost as much as Tifa and it wasn't just because she couldn't steal his materia anymore. She looked at Tifa skeptically. "Is he really coming?"

"That's what he said, although I don't know if that answers your question." She crossed her arms and sighed. "Well, now you know, so I'm going back upstairs."

Red nodded. "I'll tell Barret and Vincent." He turned to leave and Cid followed him out of the room.

"I'll come with you," Yuffie said. Tifa gave her a curious look. "Oh, come on, Tifa; give me a little more credit than that. You're going up to see that secret room, and we **both **know it."

Tifa smiled slyly. "There's no fooling you, is there?"

-- O --

After the two of them had grabbed flashlights, they ascended the ladder and pulled the door shut behind them. It wasn't like they were sneaking; they just didn't want to be interrupted. Tifa reached into the armoire and pushed the button that opened the entrance to the secret room.

Yuffie shook her head. "I still can't believe you found that so easily."

Tifa smiled and clicked on her flashlight. "Join the club."

Once inside, the two split up and began inspecting the room more closely. Yuffie strode over to the candle boxes.

"Bordeaux candles? What are these doing up here?" She removed the lid and began combing through all the carved pieces of beeswax.

Tifa assumed a station at the bookcase. This place was in desperate need of a good dusting. She scanned the bindings of the books. There was that one about Boudica. Tifa could see the mark in the dust where she had slid it out. Then she noticed that there was a similar mark on the top shelf.

She stood on her tip-toes and slid the book out. Once she held it in her hands, she cracked open the cover. _Ancient Forest Lore._ The title seemed interesting enough. She began flipping through the aged pages until it stopped on what appeared to be a lined piece of notebook paper. She pulled it out and set the book aside. "Hey, Yuffie, I've found something."

Yuffie hurried over and set her chin on Tifa's shoulder so that she could see. The note was written in English, so Tifa read it aloud. "Andrew, there's no clear way of telling what Darknation is up to, but the signs clearly show that the Daughter of the Resistance is alive. We must find her before they do. Fight the good fight, brother. James.

Yuffie reached up and pulled the paper from Tifa's hands. "Who are these people?"

"Well, whoever they are," Tifa reasoned, "they definitely are not working with Darknation."

Yuffie set the note on the desk. "Well that's good to know I guess." Then she narrowed her eyes and a sly grin spread across her face. "Hey Tifa…"

"Hm?"

"Maybe we should set a trap for whoever's been up here. If we catch them, we can finally get some answers."

Tifa caught Yuffie's contagious smile. "Yeah! We'll just have to put everything back so that they don't suspect that we know they've been coming here." Yuffie nodded and began tidying up the bookshelf while Tifa crossed over and began putting all the candles Yuffie had drug out away. "Geez, Yuffie, think you could have made a bigger mess?"

"Probably," Yuffie giggled and then she began helping Tifa with the candles. She paused, however, when she came across one that was particularly interesting.

"Hey Tif, look at this."

Tifa glanced down at the dark blue candle the girl held. It was especially ornate. There was a forest carved into it with what appeared to be a burning village beneath it. She could make out smoke rising into a clouded sky and mountains in the background. She could even see people running about the village; some holding weapons, others simply fleeing. Yuffie turned the candle so Tifa could see the other side. It was mostly forest, but deep inside there was a carved woman that was carrying a bundle and seemed to be fleeing from a pack of dogs. Or were they wolves?

"Weird, huh?" Yuffie whispered.

Tifa reached out and grabbed the candle, but suddenly felt a great shock go up her arm like she had just grabbed an electric fence. Instantly her vision blurred and there was a loud ringing noise as the world spun around her. She shut her eyes tight and screamed, but no sound escaped from her lips. Then, it all stopped.

-- O --

Tifa opened her eyes to find herself standing on a rock high above the woods looking down at a village in flames. _Her village._ She was overcome with a strange sense of loss as she watched her family and neighbors flee only to be cut down by the horsemen. Then she saw the hounds; their pack was on her scent. There was no time to reminisce. She had to get the children to safety.

She looked down at the sleeping infant in her arms and felt the weight of the child clinging to her back. She knew these children, but at the same time, had no idea who they were. "Come now, Timothy," she found herself saying in a voice too high to be hers. "We must hurry so we're not late. Don't take the blindfold off yet." With that she raced off into the woods, trees passing her as she fled. She had to get the children to the river!

The hounds were closer now and she could hear them up at the caves. They would be upon her soon. Suddenly the trees cleared and she could see the ferry. Hope emerged at the corners of her psyche as she pumped her legs with newfound strength. But just as she reached the top of the hill, her foot caught on a root and she went tumbling the rest of the way down the riverbank.

Tifa felt no pain, but did all the same as she watched hands that weren't hers fly to a leg that wasn't hers either.

"Timothy, are you alright? We're here." The young boy had fallen from her back during the descent and seemed relatively unscathed. She looked down at Seraphine in her arms. She was awake, but unharmed. The hounds bayed not a mile back.

"Tim, take your sister and get to the ferry." The child obeyed and then turned back.

"Will you come, Sister Royal?"

She could never. She was sure that her leg was broken. It was over for her now. "Go, Tim! I shall come on the next ferry."

The boy called Tim nodded and raced off. She watched as the captain ushered him on and then rose to her knees. Tim waved at her from the ferry with an innocently gleeful smile on his face. She reached up and waved back, forcing herself to smile and not weep as she watched them drift off to safety. This would be the last time she would see those beautiful children.

Tifa then winced in pain and her eyes darted down to the broken limb as blonde ringlets escaped from her bun to fall into her face. A tear slid down her foreign cheek as she heard the hounds just up the hill and the hoof beats of Kale's horsemen. A strange feeling of peace washed over her as she laid herself down. Tifa then floated out of the girl's body just in time to watch the huge black hounds bound down the hill and then begin to viciously rip apart the body she had just ceased to inhabit.

Then the whole scene wavered and the ringing began to start up again. Tifa closed her eyes and covered her ears as tingles like needles covered her body and numbed her mind. Then it all slowly ebbed away.

-- O --

Tifa opened her eyes to find herself back in the secret room of her attic. She shook her head to clear her mind of its fogginess and then noticed Yuffie standing there with wonder etched in her features. "Tifa, why did you just freeze up like that? Did it happen again? The noises?"

Tifa glanced down at the candle in her hand and then put it back into its slot and closed the lid. "Hold on, let me sit down." She still felt a bit dizzy. Together they walked out into the main room and seated themselves on two boxes. Tifa put her head in her hands.

"It was different this time. I actually **saw** things this time too. It was like I **was** this…wait." She glared at Yuffie apprehensively. "I didn't tell you about the noises."

Yuffie smiled nervously and scratched the back of her head. "Oh…I just meant that…that um…shoot."

"You were eavesdropping weren't you?"

Yuffie looked down at her shoes. "Maybe a little."

Tifa sighed. "Well I suppose I deserve it for not telling you guys sooner."

Yuffie looked up. "Well, I'm glad you feel that way 'cause I already told the others."

Tifa stiffened and gave the ninja a mock-angry punch in the shoulder. "There's no having secrets with **you** around!"

"Ow, hey!" Yuffie squirmed away and laughed. "Not a chance!" Then her face became serious. "But what were you saying? Something about seeing things?"

Tifa stood and shut the door to the secret room. "I'll tell you the whole story, but I want to tell the others too." She reached out and helped Yuffie stand up. "Besides, I don't really think I like it up here anymore."

-- O --

"And so that's the whole story." Tifa sat cross-legged in one of her chairs and had just finished explaining what had happened to the rest of the group. She still had no idea what **it was**, but she felt better knowing that the others knew about it.

"So let me get this straight," Cid said rather irritably. "You had a freakin' vision?"

"No," Tifa sighed, "it was more like a memory, but not one of mine. I actually felt the same things that that person, whoever she was, did."

Barret shook his head and leaned against the fireplace mantel. "And this all happened when you touched that candle?"

"Yeah, Tifa just sort of went blank and stood there like she was frozen," Yuffie put in. "It was kinda scary in a cool sort of way."

Cid rolled his eyes. "Ya got some serious problems."

Yuffie huffed and crossed her arms. "Says the chain-smoker." Then she stuck her tongue out at him, which earned another eye roll.

Red cleared his throat. "Well, while that was interesting, it doesn't really help us any."

Vincent stood by the door and rubbed his chin. "I can't help but feel that there's something we've overlooked; something important."

Barret stretched his hulking arms. "Yeah, well I'm gonna go check on the kids. When's Cloud sposeta get here?"

Tifa noticed that Vincent quirked an eyebrow and turned away. She shrugged. "Who knows? No one can ever tell when Cloud will do anything." Barret gave a slight chuckle and then ascended the stairs.

Yuffie rolled onto her back and looked up at Shera. "So what time is it?"

"Why doncha just look at the clock ya lazy little shit?!" Cid sneered.

Shera gave him an aggravated glare and then turned to Yuffie. "It's about 12:30."

Yuffie yawned and sat up with a glare at Cid. "Thanks a lot, **SHERA**. I guess I'll go and make lunch now." She got to her feet. "You wanna help?"

Shera smiled. "Sure. We **both** will."

Cid's mouth fell open. "Hey, wait a minute," But it was no use. Both Shera and Yuffie managed to drag the protesting pilot into the kitchen.

Red snickered as the door swung shut. "That's the good thing about not having hands. You're never drafted for kitchen duty." He then stood and looked from Tifa to Vincent. "I…think I'll go upstairs and see the kids."

Once he was gone, the room was thrown into silence. Tifa let out a mammoth sigh. "Erg…why did I ever tell Cloud he could come over?"

Vincent seated himself on the couch and crossed his legs. "I'm not entirely sure. A momentary lapse of reason, perhaps?"

Tifa dropped her chin into her hands. "Most definitely. How am I going to do this, Vincent?" she groaned. "Now that I think about it, there were hundreds of things I could have said, but I just…oh!" She sat up straight and growled to herself. "He drives me crazy!"

A flash of lightning lit up the window and a peal of belated thunder soon followed. "We've been getting an awful lot of rain lately," Vincent mused.

"Yeah," Tifa responded, "my favorite type of weather."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Well then you must be exceedingly pleased." Tifa shot him a look.

"I was just kidding, Vincent."

"So was I."

Tifa smiled. "Well, the wind's started to pick up. Maybe Cloud won't be able to make it after all." But she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Vincent smirked. "I believe you jinxed it."

Yuffie, who had heard the knocking from the kitchen, rushed in and yelled up the stairs. "Hey you guys, Cloud's here!" It wasn't long before footsteps were heard in the upper hallway and on the stairs. Tifa sighed, rose, and opened the door.

But it wasn't Cloud that stood there, it was a bright-eyed and very petite young woman whose medium auburn hair bounced as she turned to look at Tifa. She grinned brilliantly and stuck out a well manicured hand. "Hello! You must be Tifa!" Tifa shook her hand, slightly frozen in amazement. The girl's bright green eyes looked past Tifa and she stepped through the doorway and over to Marlene.

"You two must be Marlene and Denzel. Cloud's told me so much about you."

_I'll bet he has_, Tifa thought pointedly.

"He has?" Marlene beamed.

"Mm-hm," the bubbly red-head replied. "But you're much prettier in person."

Marlene blushed and smiled widely. "I think you're pretty too!"

The young woman laughed musically. "Thank you!" She turned to Denzel and held out her hand. She was only a few inches taller than him. He glanced at Red and then shook it.

Just then, Tifa heard the door close and looked over to see a drenched Cloud standing next to her with his hands deep in his pockets. "Hey, Tifa."

_Why don't you take your hey and shove it where the sun don't shine, you jerk!_

"Hey, Cloud." She turned away from him and moved to stand next to Yuffie.

The cheerful little newcomer stood up straight and smiled at Cloud. "Sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer to meet your friends."

Cloud stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulder. "Everyone, I'd like you to meet Emily Bordeaux."

Yuffie and Tifa exchanged glances. "As in Bordeaux candles?" Yuffie queried.

"Why, yes. My grandfather started our family candle business around fifty years ago." She then blushed. "I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced."

Cloud seemed to snap into action. "Oh, Emily, this is Yuffie, Barret, Cid, Shera, Red XIII, and Vincent."

"It's nice to meet all of you," Emily said with a curtsy.

Tifa looked at her distrustfully. "So, where do you get the inspiration for the carvings you use on your candles?"

"From a lot of things actually. Most of the carvings are of things from nature, from legends, or from fairy tales, but some of them are scenes from history." Cloud grinned and gave her a squeeze.

"Em here is an excellent artist."

Emily blushed and Tifa wanted to puke. She managed to keep it in. "So was the one of the burning village from history or legend?"

Emily blinked, but her smile didn't falter. "Um…I don't believe I'm familiar with that particular piece." There was an awkward silence.

After a moment, she turned to Cloud. "Well, my parents are expecting us, Cloud. I don't want them to be worried that we got lost in the storm."

Cloud nodded. "Em's family lives close by, so we're staying with them so that we don't take up space here."

"How thoughtful of you," Vincent replied with a hint of sarcasm. Tifa had to suppress a giggle, but as usual, Cloud was totally oblivious. "So do you think we could come back tomorrow to talk about stuff?" Tifa was contemplating the many ways she could incisively say no, when Marlene broke in.

"Yeah, they can come see us before we leave."

Tifa sighed as Cloud looked confused. "Leave? Why?"

Cid cracked his neck and grunted. "It's a long story. Ya'll hear it tomorrow."

Cloud nodded hesitantly and then he turned to Emily. The two said their goodbyes and then dashed out through the rain to their car.

After they had driven off, Cid looked at Barret. "Well that whole thing about the candles was bullshit. She obviously knew about it." Barret nodded in agreement.

"Cid," Shera mumbled, "You shouldn't say stuff like that in front of the kids."

"It's not like they're not gonna hear it anyway!"

Tifa turned away from the others. _Scenes from history, huh? It's time to get some answers._ She slipped out of the room and into the kitchen to call a cab. Professor Malcolm should be done with classes soon.

-- O --

Vincent waited in the front room with Red and Denzel while the others ate in the kitchen. The sound of a car engine reached his ears and he looked outside to see Tifa climbing into a taxi. Red joined him at the window. "Where do you think she's going?" he pronounced as his crimson eyes watched the taxi pull out into the brewing storm.

"Perhaps she took this visit from Cloud a little hard." Red shook his head. "He hasn't changed at all."

Denzel stood up and came over to give Red a scratch behind the ears. "Do we really have to go tomorrow?"

Red nodded and nudged Denzel's arm. "You know that you do. It's not safe for you here."

"I just don't want to leave you guys. I'll miss you." Red gave a half-smile and was about to reply when there was a sudden loud crashing and clanking from upstairs.

Yuffie and Marlene screamed in the kitchen and Cid came racing into the front room. "What the hell was that?!"

-- O --

10


	14. Capturing Answers

A Grim History

Capturing Answers

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Despite the fact that the wind had brought a chill to the air, the cab driver still had the air conditioner on full blast. But even though her body reacted and shivered with the cool gusts, Tifa's mind payed the temperature little heed. She had a million other things bouncing around in her brain. So much had happened in the past few days and all of it seemed to be one big mess.

Finding Buttercup that morning had certainly shaken her. The image of the kitten's lifeless, frightened eyes haunted her mind's eye despite her efforts to concentrate on other things. And then of course Darknation's note was still bothering her. What were they thinking?

Well, whatever the reason, Tifa and the others had apparently become a threat whether they knew why or not. But was that a good thing?

But as if finding the ruined kitten wasn't enough, she also had to deal with Cloud. And what was up with that Emily girl? She was obviously lying about those candles. But why would she need to? Tifa had a feeling that there must be some secret intertwined with those candles, and somehow Emily must be involved.

First of all, when she touched the candle she was thrown into a vision in which she seemed to inhabit the body of someone from the past. She was sure now that it all had something to with the Resistance. The little boy she had saved had been called Timothy; which happened to have been the name of Marie Wolfe's son. Also, she had known that the horsemen were led by a man named Kale. Marie had written that her brother-in-law had that name.

But so does the leader of Darknation. Were the King's Men and Darknation somehow linked?

If the Timothy in her vision was indeed Marie's son, then the baby named Seraphine must have been her daughter. So then, was the young woman Marie? If not, who was she and what did she have to do with everything else? Maybe if Tifa could determine the name of the burning village she could figure it out. And since Emily wouldn't answer any questions, Tifa would have to find out on her own.

"Excuse me, Lady," the cab driver said with a slight drawl, "That'll be twenty gil."

Tifa reached into her pocket and pulled out the correct amount. She was about to get out when she thought better of it and turned back to the man. "Actually, could you wait for me? I'll pay whatever it costs."

The cabby shrugged. "Sure, I'll keep the meter running."

Tifa thanked the man and opened the back door. It was still raining pretty hard so she had to dash up the front steps and through the large front doors. Once inside, she wiped the raindrops from her face with her sleeve and glanced up at the large, wooden clock that was ticking away above the lobby.

_5:43_ Good, she had some time before Professor Malcolm's class got out This would be a tremendous time to check the university's history archives for this mysterious mountain village. Perhaps it had been nearby.

-- O --

Yuffie burst through the kitchen door soon after Cid with Barret and Marlene on her heels. "Yes!" she exclaimed and then she raced off up the stairs.

"What the hell?!" Cid shouted up after her and she paused at the top of the staircase.

"Marlene, Denzel, and I set a trap for to catch the intruders! You had better get outside in case they're running out through the secret stairs!" With that, she dashed off toward the door to the attic.

Red XIII nodded to Vincent. "I'll stay here and protect Shera and the kids." Denzel looked indignant, but put up no fuss. Shera nodded as well and set a hand on each child's shoulder.

Cid, Vincent, and Barret, however, wasted no time in getting out and around the house. As they ran, Cid loaded his modified shotgun. "Damn, I hope we don't gotta run like this for long!"

Vincent rounded the house first to see three shadowy figures racing off towards the dark woods. Cid halted and aimed his shotgun, but Vincent pushed the barrel down. "People are easier question when they're alive, Highwind!" He then spun around and continued pursuing the intruders with amazing speed.

"Yeah, but they're easier to catch when they're wounded," Cid huffed, but he slung his shotgun over his shoulder and followed.

Barret paused as he saw Yuffie stumble down the secret staircase, "C'mon, Yuf, they're getting' away!" Yuffie only groaned and sprinted on after the others.

-- O --

Tifa pushed her chair back away from the computer desk and glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen. The professor's classes should be over and she had barely found anything. All she had was the name of the village, but it was better than nothing.

She left the library and proceeded to the university's history wing, but stopped in her tracks when she spotted the evil Mrs. Higgins ticking away on her keyboard. _Oh man! She'll never let me through without an appointment and especially when I look like this!_ She glanced down at her soaked, wrinkled clothing and narrowed her eyes up at the beastly woman. She would just have to sneak past.

It would have looked very strange to see a grown woman crawling across the tile floor, but luckily for Tifa, no one was coming. She heard the secretary stand up and stretch and held her own breath. But Mrs. Higgins merely yawned and sat back down to continue typing.

Tifa quickly crawled around the corner and then stood as she let out her breath. _Now,_ she turned to look down the hall, _to find the professor_.

-- O --

Vincent raced onward through the undergrowth of the forest. These were most definitely the same intruders from the other night. They were following the exact same trail as the footprints had. He could hear them up ahead, but only just barely. True, they were close enough to see, but they were amazingly silent as they ran.

He glanced back at his comrades who were not nearly as quiet. However, that was all part of Vincent's strategy. If they believed the others to be the only ones pursuing them, he was at an advantage due to the fact that he was keeping out of sight.

Just then, another sound reached Vincent's keen ears. _Wup wup wup._ A helicopter?! Of course! That's why the tracks had ended so abruptly before. But this presented a whole new set of problems. He had to catch up with them before they boarded!

No longer using stealth as his strategy, Vincent leapt back onto the path and sprinted with every ounce of his speed to catch up to his quarry. But, unfortunately, they were almost to the rope ladder going up to the helicopter. Vincent reached the clearing and skidded to a stop just as the craft lifted out of reach. He heard the others come up behind him.

"Now what do we do?" Yuffie exclaimed between gasps for breath.

Vincent glared at the retreating craft and then turned to the others. "What choice do we have? Now, we fly."

-- O --

Tifa stood at the door to Professor Malcolm's office. She had already knocked twice and had received no answer. _Crud. Maybe he's in his lecture hall._ She walked to the next door down the hall and pushed it open. The lights were on, but the room looked completely empty.

Tifa glanced all around and took a step forward only to hear the crunch of paper beneath her foot. She looked down and picked up the crushed scrap. It looked like any other crumpled up piece of trash, but for some reason, Tifa felt compelled to take a closer look. She carefully unfolded the scrap to reveal a short typed note.

**Malcolm, we know you're helping the girl. If you are wise, you will cease immediately.**

Girl? Was the note referring to her? Darknation! They must know Tifa's been investigating! Tifa shuddered as the air around her suddenly felt cold. But how?

Just then, there was a loud series of thuds and Tia nearly leapt out of her skin. She spun around; fists at the ready. 

"I-I'm so sorry, I'm such a klutz." She looked down to see a young man with sandy blond hair knelt over a scattered pile of books.

Tifa instinctively knelt down to help him. "No apology necessary. It happens to the best of us."

The kid looked up and met her eyes. "Tifa?"

"Oh, hey Keaton, I didn't recognize you at first." Tifa stood as Keaton did and handed him the books she had gathered. "What are you doing here?"

Keaton grunted as he set the pile of books on a nearby table and then adjusted his glasses. "I go to school here… Oh, you mean in this room?" Tifa nodded. "I'm a teacher's assistant for Professor Malcolm. Why are **you** here?"

Tifa set a hand on her hip. "I was hoping to see the professor. I have some more questions." Keaton smiled and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. "Er…well, he's in the teacher's lounge right now, but I think he would still…"

"Oh, could you please tell me where that is?" Tifa beseeched excitedly.

Keaton blushed and nodded. "Just go down the hall and turn right. There should be a sign, but the door's usually open. He pushed his glasses back up his short nose again.

"Thanks a lot, Keaton," Tifa said hurriedly and then she turned to leave. She stopped, however, and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, and next time you probably shouldn't carry so many books at once." Keaton blushed again and looked down as Tifa started for the faculty lounge.

She reached it fairly quickly and it was just as Keaton had said; the door was open. Inside, Tifa could see three individuals sitting in green, velvet, wingback chairs drinking tea. She recognized the one in the middle as the professor, but she had never seen the other two before.

The one on his right was a woman with short blonde hair and bright hazel eyes that boasted laugh lines at their corners. She was small in build and wore a smart tweed skirt suit. The other, to Malcolm's left, was a man who looked more like a student than a professor. He had long, dark hair that was pulled back into a disheveled ponytail and wore thin-rimmed glasses on the end of his nose. He sported a gray sweater that looked like something an old man might wear and brown slacks. In his right ear, Tifa noticed a small silver hoop.

Malcolm laughed lightly at something that was said and then met Tifa's gaze. "Oh, why Miss Lockheart, this is quite the surprise."

Tifa took a few steps past the threshold. "Um…good afternoon, Professor. I was hoping that I could talk to you." Now that all three of them were looking at her, Tifa felt naked and was suddenly regretting this meeting.

Malcolm's dark eyes were hard at first, but then softened and he motioned to an empty chair. "Come, have a seat. What is it you wish to discuss?"

The blonde woman glanced back at Malcolm. "Would you like for us to leave, then?"

"Oh, no, that's not necessary. Miss Lockheart has been asking me questions about history so perhaps your added knowledge would be a boon."

"I hate to interrupt anything," Tifa added nervously.

"Nonsense," Malcolm assured as Tifa lowered herself into the chair. "I am happy to be of service." He glanced at the woman on his right. "This is Professor Catherine Stratford."

Tifa rose slightly and shook her outstretched hand. "It's a pleasure, Miss Lockheart."

Malcolm then gestured to the man at his left. "And this is Professor Alexander Altmann." Altmann nodded cordially. "Both of these fine individuals are my coworkers here in the history department. Catherine is a professor of historical arts and Alexander of historical literature. They are highly esteemed and are an important part of this university."

Alexander sighed and looked toward the ceiling. "I wait for the reflection of that in my paycheck." All three chuckled at this and Tifa smiled nervously.

"Now," Catherine said kindly. "What is it that you wish to know?"

Tifa shifted in her chair as Malcolm took a sip of his tea and Alexander fiddled with the neck of his sweater which was already stretched from past fiddling. "I've been doing some research and I'd like to hear what you know about a village called Sráidbhaile."

Catherine and Alexander exchanged glances but Malcolm seemed oblivious to this. He set his cup and saucer down and crossed his legs. "As in the mountain village of Sráidbhaile?"

Tifa nodded and Malcolm stroked his chin. "I know that it was only recently discovered and excavated. Archaeologists believe it to have been in ruin for around a century. I, myself, have never been there, but I hear it is nothing remarkable." Malcolm leaned forward slightly and his indigo eyes cut into hers. "Why do you ask?"

Tifa picked at her nails. "Do they know who lived there or how it came to ruin?"

Catherine and Alexander exchanged glances once again and then simultaneously looked to Malcolm. "They believe it to have been a village of thieves and outlaws." Malcolm sat back and breathed deeply. "Although nothing is clear, they suspect that the village came to ruin when the authorities of the time went to arrest their leaders. That is all I can help with unless," he glanced to the two on either side of him. "Unless one of you has something to add."

Tifa noticed Alexander bit his lip and although he shook his head, it seemed as though there was something he wished to add. Catherine folded her hands together and leaned forward. "Yes, but while you are right, Sebastian, you have left out the part about the massacre."

Malcolm blinked. "Oh yes, it slipped my mind."

Catherine turned to Tifa. "The authorities went in only to arrest the leaders, but ended up massacring all the villagers." Her eyes burned as she said this.

"Yes, well," Malcolm finished, "It's still all speculation."

Tifa heard the grandfather clock against the wall chime nine o'clock. "Oh, well thank you a lot Professor Malcolm, and you too Professor Stratford and Professor Altmann. But I really have to go. I didn't even tell the others where I was going." She stood and shook each of their hands.

"Thank you for stopping by," Malcolm said softly and then he walked her to the door. "Miss Lockheart, is your mother still alive?"

Tifa was taken aback by this strange question but answered anyway. "No…she died when I was only eight."

"Pity." He then gave her a kind smile. "I'm sure it's dark out by now. Would you like for me to walk you to your car?"

Tifa smiled back and shook her head. "No, thank you. I've already taken enough of your time."

"Alright then, goodbye, Miss Lockheart." Tifa waved and exited, rushing to her taxi. The others were probably worried about her by now.

-- O --

Sebastian Malcolm waited a few moments after the girl had left and stroked his chin in thought. He then exited toward his office, forgetting entirely the two individuals who stood behind him exchanging a knowing, and somewhat worried, glance.

-- O --

Barret, Cid, and Yuffie watched as Vincent quickly changed forms and red wings unfolded from his back. He launched off the ground in pursuit of the aircraft carrying the intruders. This protomateria sure came in handy.

A masked face leaned out of the open side of the helicopter and caught sight of the terrifying beast following them. The face shot back inside and then the helicopter changed course. _Ah, so they plan to run. Good, Chaos has been longing for a good stretch of his wings._

But what happened next, Vincent had not expected. The craft spun broadside to reveal two masked, and armed, men. Shots rang out as bullets whizzed past Vincent on every side. One struck him in the left shoulder and another in his right calf and he roared in pain as he made a lunge for the helicopter.

Below, Barret aimed his gun arm and Cid his shotgun and they both returned fire on the craft. One of the masked men dropped his weapon and clutched his now bloodied arm. Cid smirked and began to reload.

The aircraft lurched into action and flew off to get out of range of their ground attackers. Cid let out a stream of cuss words. Now all they could do was watch! He glanced around…hey, where was Yuffie?

Vincent mimicked the helicopter's movements as it zigzagged over the forest in an attempt to lose him. Despite the fact that he had been injured, Vincent was gaining. But what would he do when he caught them?

Suddenly, Yuffie's giant shirriken came flying in from the side and struck the front of the craft. The helicopter reeled and one of the masked figures toppled from the open door.

Without hesitation, Vincent dove for the man and caught hold of his ankle just before he struck the ground. The man had lost consciousness during the fall and Vincent looked up to see that the craft was now nowhere in sight.

He growled softly to himself and flew back to where Cid and Barret waited.

"Alright!" Cid exclaimed. "You got one!"

Vincent landed and set his unconscious passenger on the ground. "We had best get him back and tie him up before he comes to."

Barret nodded and hoisted their prisoner over his shoulder.

Yuffie returned with her weapon as Vincent changed back to his normal form. She looked up and noticed Vincent's wound. "Vinny! You're hurt!"

"I'll be fine." But as he tried to take a step, his knees gave out. Yuffie rushed to his side and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, I'll help you get back to the house."

Vincent nodded and concentrated on walking with as little pain as possible. Usually he wouldn't accept such…aid, but pursuing that aircraft had taken a lot out of him. However, it was worth it if it meant that they would finally get some answers.

-- O --

Tifa tapped her foot as she waited on the sidewalk under a streetlamp. Hadn't she asked to cabby to stay there? She sighed and glanced at the clock on her cell phone impatiently. Well, luckily the taxi station was only a few blocks away. She'd just have to walk.

It was a cool night and the clouds blanketed the sky. It wasn't long before it started to drizzle. Tifa clutched her arms to herself and grimaced. She was really getting sick of this weather.

A single car passed and its headlights nearly blinded her. "Geez," Tifa said to herself. "You don't need your brights in town." She looked up as another set of headlights lit up the street. Almost as if in slow motion, a black van pulled up along the sidewalk.

Tifa barely had time to think before the side door slid open to reveal four figures wearing black hooded cloaks with different colored linings. The one closest to her reached out and caught hold of her arm with a vice-like grip.

Suddenly, a loud screeching noise peeled out as a black sedan smashed into the front of the van, sending Tifa's would-be captor careening to the sidewalk.

Glass shards from the van's windshield flew everywhere and as the cloaked figure hit the ground, he reached into his vest and pulled out two matching handguns. Tifa gasped as she felt someone grab her from behind screaming, "Get down!"

Both Tifa and the person toppled to the ground as shots rang out; not only from the cloaked enemy on the ground, but from rooftops and hedges. Tifa's mind reeled as she felt the weight of the body covering hers. The bullets seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere!

Then there was the sound of tires screeching as both the sedan and the van sped off in opposite directions. She could hear the boot steps of her cloaked assailant as he fled on foot. And as quickly as it had started; it was all over.

Tifa felt the weight lift off of her and looked up to see that her savior had been none other than Professor Altmann. He breathed heavily as he helped her to her feet. "Are you alright, Miss Lockheart?"

Tifa glanced down at her skinned knees glistening through the gashes in her pant legs. "I-I think so…" But when she looked up to thank the professor, he had vanished.

-- O --

8


	15. The Resistance

A Grim History

The Resistance

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"So who was it that shot at you?" Yuffie queried as she applied antiseptic to Tifa's knees. Tifa winced as the medicine sunk in and stung her skin. "I really have no idea what-so-ever." She glanced over at Vincent who was sitting in a chair while Shera wrapped his injured leg.

He had taken his shirt off so that she could wrap his shoulder as well, but he had yet to put it back on. Despite the fact that white scars crisscrossed his skin, Tifa found herself admiring his nicely toned physic. She wasn't the kind to openly check someone out, but her weariness left her little awareness of how her eyes wandered, or rather, remained focused on one subject for much longer than what would be polite.

Yuffie cleared her throat and Tifa immediately looked down at her with a slight blush forming on her cheeks. Yuffie smiled sardonically and leaned in closer. "You've got a little drool," she said with a gesture toward the corner of her mouth. This earned a playful kick from Tifa who was hoping that Yuffie was the only one to have noticed her ogling.

Cid, who had been pacing the room since before Tifa arrived, stopped to crush his cigarette butt in an ashtray and then sighed. "This is just gettin' more and more dangerous and it's starting to piss me off." He flicked open his lighter and lit up another.

Red shook his head. "You're going to kill yourself with that habit." Cid only shot him a dangerous look and took an even longer drag. Red glanced over at their prisoner beside him. The masked man had been tied to a dining room chair and was still unconscious; his head lolling to one side.

"Well, anyway, it's obvious from Tifa's…um…escapade, that we're definitely gathering a fair amount of hazardous enemies. But someone out there is on our side."

Shera looked up from her work and bit her lip. "The question is; who is who?"

Cid stopped pacing and pulled his cigarette from his mouth. He glared treacherously at their unconscious guest. "Well, there's one way to find out for sure." The whole group watched as the brazen pilot marched over to the slumped man and violently ripped the mask from his head.

When Tifa saw who it was that had been tied to the chair, she let out a gasp and nearly fell out of her own chair. "Aiden?!"

Cid looked confused at first, but then suddenly turned to Tifa. "Hey, ain't he one of those kids that works at your bar?"

Tifa rose and cautiously approached hoping that she was wrong. As she got closer, however, it was irrefutable that the kid in front of her was none other than Aiden O'Connor. But why? Was he with Darknation or someone else?

Aiden stirred slightly and let out a considerable moan as his eyes squinted to adjust to the light. When he finally was able to open his eyes fully, he surveyed the faces in the room with confusion pasted all over his face and then glanced down to see that he was bound to a chair. It was then that he realized that he was no longer sporting his mask.

Vincent stood, though not without slight fussing from Shera, and crossed to the young adult. "You rested well I expect." Tifa could see the smoldering irritation in Vincent's eyes, and suspected that Aiden did as well, because he immediately looked defiantly down into his lap without saying a word.

Vincent, however, wasn't going to let the youth get away with this, and knelt so he could glare up into Aiden's downcast face. "I strongly suggest that you begin explaining yourself." Aiden turned his head to the side in order to further avoid Vincent's intimidating gaze.

"I see," Vincent grunted as he stood and then placed his clawed hand on the boy's shoulder. "I do not think that you understand the severity of your position. These past few days have been very trying for us and," he locked eyes with Tifa and tightened his grip. "…and my patience is wearing considerably thin."

Tifa could hear the tension in Vincent's voice, and it told her that he was not bluffing. She decided to lend some help in her own way. She rose and crossed over to Aiden. Vincent arced an eyebrow as she stood in front of the boy and crossed her arms. _That's right, you've all seen this before; the motherly lecture stan_ce.

"Aiden," she began kindly enough, but her voice held an edge. "What is going on? What were you doing?" Aiden slowly met Tifa's eyes, but he retained his characteristic boldness; his eyes portraying no sign of guilt or weakness. Tifa sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. "Why? Why won't you tell me? Do you realize what we've been through? I was shot at today, Aiden!"

This sparked interest in the boy's eyes. "What?"

"Ah, so he does have a voice," Red mumbled in annoyance.

"That's right," Tifa answered. "On my way home from the college I was attacked and I was lucky that someone had been there to help."

Aiden's face became serious and his brows drew together in a question. "…that wasn't us…we wouldn't have tried to harm you…"

Barret was in no mood for vague answers. "Us? Who are you with?"

"You sure tried to harm us tonight," Yuffie added indignantly, but Tifa caught a glimpse of something else in her eyes; admiration perhaps?

Aiden sighed and shook his head. "You misunderstand…you see, we didn't realize…there was a monster chasing us. We were shooting at **that**, and then your friends started returning fire despite the fact it was not aimed at them."

A fierce glint came to Vincent's eyes when Aiden said the word monster. She only hoped that he would let that one slide without any comment, but it was not to be. Despite his physical condition, he allowed his body to transform right in front of them all. Aiden was shocked; his mouth hung agape to prove it as the "monster" from before twisted into shape in front of him. A grave frown formed on Vincent's frightening features. "Not all things are what they seem."

This seemed to break the tough exterior that Aiden was presenting. Fear was evident on his face as Vincent's body popped and snapped back into place. Tifa approached the stunned young man and turned his head so he was looking her in the eyes. "Aiden," she said calmly. "It's time for you to start answering our questions."

Aiden closed his eyes tightly and slowly nodded. "Now," Tifa murmured as she stood up straight. "What the heck were you doing?"

Aiden was silent for a moment and all that could be heard was the downpour commencing outside. "We had to come. We had to." He looked up into Tifa's eyes with what almost looked like sadness. "You found Marie's room."

The realization hit Tifa like a ton of bricks. "You came for the candles, didn't you?"

"…yes."

Yuffie blinked. "Marie's room? How did you know about that?"

Aiden looked toward Yuffie with his emerald green eyes. "That would be the same question I would like to ask you. But since you did so first…" He trailed off and seemed to be gazing at something very far away and beyond the walls.

Tifa bit her lip and then breathed deeply. She'd figured it out. "You're…you're with the Resistance, aren't you? That's how you knew; because of Marie herself."

"Yes…we have always known." A very stern expression filled his youthful face, making him appear to have aged ten years right in front of them. "We are not your enemies…we never were."

"Then that Bordeaux girl is with you too," Cid added, seemingly putting two and two together.

Aiden nodded and the others exchanged glances all around the room. "Aiden," Tifa began. "Please, tell us all you know."

Aiden nodded once again and then smiled crookedly at her. "I can do better than that, boss. I can take you to some people that know even more than me." He glanced down at his bound figure. "But I'm afraid you'll need to let me loose first. I swear I won't run for it."

He glanced at Vincent standing there with crossed arms. "Not that I would get too far."

Tifa nodded to Barret. "Let him go now."

Barret seemed apprehensive, but obeyed with only a slight hesitation. Once he was loose, Aiden stood and stretched to his full height. Tifa glanced at the clock above the fireplace mantel. It was now nearing two o'clock in the morning and she could read the sheer exhaustion on everyone's faces. "Cid, what time is Shera and the kids' ride getting here?"

"Around fourish. Thought it would be better to get them outta here while it was still dark."

Shera gripped Cid's hand. "Then it looks like the kids and I only have about two hours. I'll go wake them up and have them get ready the rest of the way." She started towards the stairs.

Vincent regarded Aiden with evident dislike. "Where, exactly, are you planning on taking us?"

Aiden was either totally oblivious to Vincent's barbed statement or he just didn't care. "Eh? Oh, to meet the rest of us, I guess." He turned to Tifa.

"You said someone shot at you? We knew Darknation was after you, but we didn't think…" He then waved the statement away. "Well, the others will know what to do." He then looked down at his ankle. "What I'd really like to know is who set up that trap."

Yuffie stepped forward almost meekly. "Er…that was me."

Aiden smiled broadly and held out his hand. "Excellent job! I mean, I totally didn't see it until it was too late. You're pretty good at that sort of thing, eh?"

Yuffie blushed and stood up straighter. "Heck yes! I have a lot of talents for stuff like that and people around me don't seem to appreciate it." She gave a quick glare in Cid's direction.

Aiden snickered at this and then remembered the rest of them. "Oh, yeah. We can wait until the ride comes for the others, but if things are really getting that serious, I think we should get to the others as soon as possible."After that was said, he turned back around and started right back up in his conversation with Yuffie, who was eating up the attention.

Tifa glanced over at Vincent. He looked quite unhappy. Could she blame him? He locked eyes with her and then dropped his arms and crossed over to her. He stopped next to her and spoke softly **very** close to her ear. "I need to speak with you." Tifa assumed she was supposed to follow him and left the others downstairs.

Once they were in his room, Vincent immediately pulled another shirt out of his things and put it on. He then sighed and sunk down onto his bed. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his fingers together in front of his nose.

"Tell me, Tifa, do you trust this young man?"

Tifa crossed her arms. Did she? After a moment of silent thought, she finally answered. "Aiden has been working for me for a while now, and he's a lot of things, but he's not a liar. Blunt to a fault, yes, but a liar he has never been."

Vincent grunted in response and then looked up at her with his intense eyes.

"I know that you don't trust people very easily, Vincent," Tifa began slowly. "But I don't really see how we have a choice. We can go with him and finally get to the bottom of this, or at least close, or we can remain blind to whatever's out there."

"It seems that you have already weighed the issue thoroughly." Vincent looked towards the window and lowered his brows. "There is truth in your words, and if you truly believe this is the best choice," he halted his speech and looked up at her once more. "Then I believe that it is as well."

He rose and began smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt. "I may not trust your brash little friend, but I trust your judgment."

Tifa was taken aback by what Vincent had just said to her. "…you…you really mean that?"

Vincent paused and met her eyes with a slightly disturbed look on his face. "Do you believe that I would lie to you?"

"N-no!" Tifa stammered.

Vincent's expression softened and the ghost of a smile played at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I do mean it. Your opinion is important to me, Tifa. Even if you don't believe it is."

Tifa smiled sheepishly. "It's just that I've never had anyone tell me that before. Thank you." Vincent gave a slight chuckle. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he led her toward the door. "You are welcome. Now come, I believe I heard a vehicle pull up outside."

Tifa, however, barely registered his last words and nodded distractedly as energy zinged from where his warm touch graced her skin.

-- O --

_Ding dong._ There was the doorbell. Denzel looked down at his feet as he lay on his bed. He didn't want to leave, but he knew that there was no way the others would let him stay. Sitting up, he reached down and began putting on his shoes. _I'd much rather stay here and help fight…but I know that Marlene doesn't want to leave either. I guess I've got to be strong for her._

"Kids!" Shera shouted up the stairs. "Evans is here!"

Marlene, who had fallen into a light sleep snuggled up next to Denzel, sat up and rubbed her watery eyes. "Denzel," she said softly. "I don't want to go."

Denzel stood up and held out his hand to help her up. "I know. But Aunt Shera might have the baby soon. We have to be there for her just in case."

Marlene smiled, but the light that usually permeated her eyes, was gone.

-- O --

Evans, a short, stocky man with a buzz cut and tattoos of fierce looking dragons covering his arms, stood in the parlor and looked completely out of place standing next to Tifa's china hutch full of ceramic fairies. When she noticed this, she giggled to herself and ended up having to point it out to Yuffie once pestered enough. Yuffie was even more entertained than Tifa had been and had to excuse herself for a moment to guffaw in the other room.

_There's something to be said for telling jokes at four in the morning, _Tifa mused.

Cid and the man conversed about the situation in hushed tones. "Now, you're gonna wanna take the back roads so ya won't be detected as easily…" Evans nodded as he took everything that Cid said in stride. Tifa assumed he must work for Cid.

Just then, Denzel and Marlene came down the stairs. The young girl rushed over and gave Barret a hug.

"I'm gonna miss you, Daddy," she sobbed into his shirt.

He embraced her tightly and patted her head. "Don't worry, Sweetheart, it's gonna be okay." Marlene sniffed and nodded. She then proceeded to give hugs to all the others, even Vincent. Tifa found that especially endearing.

Denzel gave Barret a rather non-committal hug and then turned to Red. The stood there speaking silently to each other until Denzel stepped forward and embraced the kindly beast round his neck.

"Take care of them, Denzel," Red sniffed. Denzel nodded and straightened, hesitantly taking Marlene's hand; his facial expression betraying the fact that he resented being sent away.

Shera stood on her tip-toes and planted a kiss on Cid's lips. "You stay safe, old man."

With a last round of spoken and unspoken goodbyes, the four stepped out into the rain and ran for their ride to safety. Evans started the car up and the headlights lit up the driveway. Even though it was dark out, Tifa saw Marlene waving from the backseat and lifted her hand to them as they pulled out and on to a safe haven.

Aiden, who had been standing in the background in uncharacteristic silence, stepped forward. "I've contacted the others. They're expecting us. We should leave immediately."

-- O --

Since they were positive that Darknation was surveying the house, Aiden led them out during the fiercest part of the storm and they traveled on foot to the bus stop up the road where they waited in the darkness. The wind whipped Tifa's soaking locks into her face and the cold drops soaked through her torn clothing. This situation was certainly not ideal.

Soon, headlights appeared in the distance; their light forging a stream through the inky darkness. When the vehicle pulled up, it was nothing more than the usual dilapidated city bus.

"A bus?" Yuffie asked sardonically. "Our escape vehicle is a bus?"

Aiden smirked at Yuffie's disbelief, but did not answer. He merely climbed in through the open door and stood next to the driver; beckoning for their rag-tag group to follow. Tifa was the first to make a move, being that she was closest. Upon stepping inside, Aiden's smirk instantly made sense.

Although the outside of the bus had been thoroughly normal, the inside was a completely different story. The walls and roof were lined with Kevlar armor and more than half of the seats had been ripped out to make room for cases of firearms and other miscellaneous weapons. Tifa's eyes were wide as she surveyed the many computers and surveillance screens that were set up around the vehicle. She turned back to the others, utterly flabbergasted.

Cid stood with total awe in his features. He pushed back his goggles as he closed his open mouth.

"Damn…" Barret's eyes were wide as he surveyed the weapons; instantly recognizing each one.

Red and Vincent surveyed the surroundings with caution, but Tifa could tell that they were both quite impressed.

Yuffie was completely mystified and turned back to Aiden.

He laughed boisterously. "So you approve, then? I thought you would."

The bus lurched into movement and he placed a hand on the driver's shoulder. "Everyone, I'd like for you to meet Dean Preston."

Dean looked over his shoulder with a toothy grin and winked. "Glad to be of service!" He then turned back around and began mumbling into the headset that was attached to his gleaming, standard issue police helmet.

Aiden peered out the side window and then turned back to them. "Looks like we haven't been detected so far, but my guess is that if we do have a shadow, they'll be trying hard to go unnoticed."

Seeing the grim looks on all their faces, he smiled broadly and gave a thumbs up. "Hey, not to worry! Dean, here is an expert driver. If we got a tail, he'll lose 'em no problem!" He lowered himself into one of the still existing seats. "But you might wanna buckle up."

Tifa sunk into one of the seats and clicked the safety belt. Yuffie, who had seated herself next to Tifa, kept her eyes fixed on the redhead in front of her; an unreserved look of marvel in her dark eyes. Tifa leaned over and whispered into the girl's ear. "Hey, Yuffie…you're drooling." Yuffie glanced at her and grimaced, but then went right back to her previous transfixion.

Cid, Barret, and Red spoke in hushed tones with Aiden with many questions about the vehicle. Aiden seemed to enjoy being the center of attention and his chest puffed out a bit more with each answer he gave. Tifa rolled her eyes. _He never was the humble type. _She glanced back at Vincent who was silently surveying his surroundings while pointedly ignoring the boy. _Or the observant type, for that matter._ She turned her tired gaze to the window.

Focusing her eyes into the dark, she thought that she could make out the outline of a van in the lane beside them, but if it was there, it had its lights off. Apparently, their driver noticed as well, because the bus suddenly turned left and sped up. The new passengers gripped their seats, but Aiden seemed totally unfazed and kept right on talking.

Tifa's suspicion was affirmed when lights suddenly came on behind them. Dean sped up as the bus approached a tunnel. The van was attempting to catch up, but was a good distance behind now. As they entered the tunnel, Tifa saw Dean reach for a lever to his right and pull on it. The whole group watched out the window as a side of the tunnel opened to reveal a split in the road to the right.

Dean veered to the right and pushed the lever back into place. Through the back window, they could see the entrance close up and all was thrown into absolute darkness save the glowing red lights in the bus' cabin and a faint circle of light at the end of the tunnel.

Dean began to slow the vehicle and soon came to a complete stop at the end. The tunnel had ended abruptly. Then, to the group's surprise, the wall opened up to reveal what appeared to be an underground aircraft hanger and bus terminal. Tifa glanced over to Cid, who she was sure was close to passing out with glee. She giggled at his childish delight.

The vehicle rolled to a stop between two similar buses and Dean turned to face them. "Here we are." He locked eyes with Aiden. "The counsel is waiting in the grand hall."

Aiden nodded and stood; motioning for the others to do so as well. "Come on, we had better get going."

-- O --

Aiden poked his head back out through the double wooden doors of the counsel room. "Alright," he said to the six comrades seated in the hall. "They're ready for you now. Come on in."

Tifa and the others stood and filed through the doors. Upon entry, she could see a large circular table with several people sitting around it; two of whom were very familiar. "Professor Altmann? Professor Stratford? You two are…"

"With the resistance, yes," Catherine Stratford finished. "Please, won't you take a seat?" She gestured toward six empty chairs close to them.

As the new-comers took their seats, a tall, aging man with graying auburn hair rose and made a slight bow. "Good morning, I am glad that we finally have the privilege to meet, I am just saddened that it must be under such unfortunate circumstances."

The man sank back down into his chair and folded his hands in front of him on the table. "My name is Andrew O'Connor. You are already acquainted with my son, Aiden." Aiden, who had seated himself in a chair at the side of the room, saluted casually with two fingers.

"We understand that these times must be very trying for you all," Andrew continued. "And we are deeply dismayed that you have been dragged into this predicament."

Tifa listened intently to what Andrew was saying, but as she surveyed the individuals in the room, one in particular caught her eye; a young, petite woman with short red hair. "Emily Bordeaux!" Tifa interrupted without thinking. Immediately, the girl's gaze collided with Tifa's. She nodded slowly and sighed. "Yes, it's me."

Tifa's mind was flooded with questions as her anger rose, but she was calmed by a steady hand on her shoulder. She looked over to see Vincent giving her an understanding look that said, _I know how you feel, but this isn't the time to be getting upset._ Tifa took a deep breath and then leaned forward in her chair.

"Mr. O'Connor," she began with determination. "Your apology is accepted, but it's not what we're here for. We're here for answers."

Andrew looked down and then exchanged glances with an elderly man to his right. "Very well. Gabriel, would you do the honor?"

The man to Andrew's right nodded and began. "Our organization, the Resistance, has been in a struggle with Darknation for hundreds of years even before they were identified by that name. It all began back during the reign of an evil king named Sloan. He had in his possession a stone, called the Bloodstone, in which was trapped a dark, pagan god. He drew power from this abomination through the sacrifice of his subjects."

Gabriel paused and his voice became ominous. "Those were dark days and as time went on, the king only grew more and more power hungry. The people lived in terror until a group of rebels resisted and overthrew the king in a long and arduous battle that ended many lives. Under the name of the Resistance, they imprisoned and executed the king and his sorcerers and encased the Bloodstone in a talisman that was branded with a holy incantation that would seal the dark being in it forever."

"But despite the peace that was brought to the land, **this** land, there were still those who remained loyal to the king. Over time, the people forgot what their ancestors had suffered and the evil ones rose into power once more under the title of the Kingsmen. Led by a wicked man named Sebastian, they hunted down those who were of the Resistance and slaughtered them, their families, and any who had aided them in the past. It was during this time that most of our people had fled to the mountain village of Sráidbhaile, where they would be safe and hidden."

"However, it was not to be for Sebastian's son, Kale, led his band of trained secret soldiers, whom he called Darknation, into the mountains and massacred the entire town; man, woman, and child. But a few of our numbers survived and now we have built this," he gestured outward with his hand. "We will meet Darknation at every turn to keep them from coming to power once more."

Tifa cocked her head and bit her lip. "And what of Marie? How did she and the talisman fit into all of this? What about Timothy and Seraphine? Did they survive the ferry ride?"

Gabriel's wrinkled features were etched with surprise. "H-how did you know about that?"

Tifa blushed, instantly realizing that she had every eye in the room now upon her. Now what could she say? Should she tell them about the visions?

"Andrew…" a weak voice from the corner of the room said in a near whisper. "Bring her to me."

Andrew nodded, stood, and approached Tifa slowly. Tifa withdrew from his open hand when he held it out to help her up.

"Don't worry; I won't hurt you, Miss Lockheart." Tifa allowed the tall man to help her to her feet and lead her over to an ancient looking woman in a wheelchair. "This is she, Rebecca."

Tifa glanced back at the others and saw that both Vincent and Barret had risen from their seats and watched protectively over her. She turned back to the old woman to see her holding out a frail, shaky hand.

The woman's overall appearance was rather frightening. Her eyes were rolled upward and were glazed over with white. Her nearly transparent skin limply hung from her features and her lips seemed to constantly move in an intangible silent muttering.

"Do not be afraid, child," Rebecca whispered. "Please, give me your hand." Tifa obeyed hesitantly and let her hand be taken into Rebecca's.

The old woman closed her blind eyes and hummed. After a moment, a weak smile turned up the corners of her lips. She slowly sat forward and placed her forefinger beneath Tifa's chin, a tear sliding down her aged cheek. "Welcome home, lost daughter of the resistance."

-- O --

10


	16. Long Forgotten History

A Grim History

Long Forgotten Past

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Tifa's eyes widened in surprise. W-what? I-I don't understand."

Andrew O'Connor stepped forward and Tifa met his eyes to find a mix of astonishment and sorrow.

"It cannot be…" He knelt before the elderly specter of a woman seated in the wheelchair and placed a hand on her wrist. "Are you sure, Rebecca?" Rebecca nodded slowly and wiped a glistening tear from her translucent cheek with a trembling, bony finger.

Tifa was immensely confused and spun her frantic gaze back towards her comrades only to find that everyone in the room had risen from their seats. A wave of terror washed over her and she turned back to the frightening, blind woman before her. "What are you saying?!" Rebecca's head lolled to the side as though she had drifted into a deep sleep in those few seconds. Tifa locked eyes with Andrew. "What is she saying?!"

The middle-aged man swallowed and rose to his feet slowly. "She…she believes you are…"

"You are the person we've been searching for nearly a century," a sharp, female voice interjected. Tifa took a step back from Rebecca and Andrew, turning towards the voice. Emily Bordeaux stood right next to her with a reverent smile on her lips. "You're the great-granddaughter of Marie Wolfe!"

Tifa took another step backward and put her hands up in front of her. "No…you've got it all wrong. I grew up in Nibelheim…I can't possibly-"

"Well, nobody knows what happened to Marie's newborn daughter," Emily offered excitedly.

Andrew bit his lip as a worrisome look came t his gray eyes. "Yes, and she's the right age."

The others in the room seemed to close in around Tifa as they all spoke eagerly at once.

"Of course, she has Marie's eyes!"

"There** is** an orphanage outside of Nibelheim…"

"See! Look how she resembles our Emily! They could be sisters!"

Tifa's head spun as she felt more and more claustrophobic by the second. They crowded around her and for some strange reason, Tifa felt a mind-numbing fear envelope her heart and course through her veins. Their faces seemed to distort and Tifa's mind reeled as she tried to back away.

"P-please…" She uttered inaudibly as she futilely attempted to extricate herself from their pawing eyes.

Then she abruptly felt someone at her back and gasped as she felt an arm reach around her and tightly grip her shoulder. "That's enough!" A gruff voice boomed.

Suddenly the room went silent as Barret pulled Tifa off to the side; placing himself between her and the crowd.

"No kidding!" Yuffie piped up from beside him. "Can't you see how terrified she is?!"

"Yeah, you scary sons-a-bitches need to back way the hell off!" Cid shouted as his unlit cigarette bounced on his lip.

Immediately the whole crowd seemed to shy away; looks of shame and shock spreading across their faces. Tifa let out a labored breath and glanced over at Vincent who had a hand reaching into the black leather jacket he was sporting. There was little doubt in Tifa's mind that he was harboring some type of weapon there.

Barret lightly guided Tifa from the stunned throng and towards the door. "I think we'll be goin' now." Cid and Yuffie nodded and started towards the door as well.

"Wait!" Emily stepped forward and gripped the sleeve of Tifa's shirt but was met with a deep, guttural growl from Red XIII, who had positioned himself between the two.

Emily's eyes widened and she immediately released Tifa's clothing. "Please," she pleaded with a sense of urgency. "Forgive us; we were all so agitated that we forgot ourselves."

Red let out another growl and narrowed his incensed eyes. "You have thirty seconds to explain your actions."

Emily stiffened and met Tifa's glossy, frightened eyes. "When Marie her fled home, she ended up in the mountain village settlement of Sráidbhaile. It was there that she gave birth to her daughter, Seraphine. When the Kingsmen invaded the village, both of the children were ushered to safety, but they were separated in all the confusion. Timothy was adopted by a family from the Resistance who had survived the slaughter, but Seraphine was never found."

Emily's eyes brimmed with tears as she desperately addressed Tifa. Please, don't you see?! You are-"

"Time's up," Barret hissed as he heard Tifa whimper beside him. He began to pull her towards the door when Emily suddenly threw herself forward and blockaded the exit with her slight frame.

The utter silence of the room was deafening, and Tifa tensed as Emily's honey-brown eyes reached out to her. "You simply must believe me! You could be the one with the Gift!"

Something inside of Tifa stirred at these words and the lightly nudged Barret's protective grip away.

Vincent stepped forward, towering above Emily, who seemed fragile in comparison. Fire burned in his eyes as he spoke. "I warn you, if you continue to impede our way, you **will** be moved."

The young woman's bottom lip quivered, but her body tensed as she pressed her palms harder against the door frame. Tifa watched as Emily stood her ground and felt a question poke at the confines of her mind. _The Gift…_Marie had mentioned that in her journal. What could it mean?

Then a realization hit Tifa like a ton of bricks. The dreams, the voices, the visions; had those been "the Gift" all this time? Tifa's mind snapped back to the council room time and she pushed away from Barret's safeguard. She had to know.

A defiant tear slid from Emily's eye as Tifa slowly sidled up next to Vincent.

"I've seen them; Timothy and Seraphine. I watched them board the ferry. I heard as Kale sent his hounds out to find stragglers." Tifa squeezed her eyes shut as she continued. "I've heard things and seen things, while awake and asleep, which have seemed to be traveling across time itself. Tell me," she said as she opened her eyes. "Is this the Gift you're talking about? Because up until now, I thought I was going completely insane."

Emily's thin arms dropped to her sides; her eyes unblinking and then nodded. "Yes…yes it is."

Tifa inhaled a deep breath, ignoring the urge to flee what was welling up inside of her, and then released the breath slowly with a slight smile. "So then…where do we go from here?"

-- O --

Barret, Cid, Red XIII, Yuffie, Vincent, and Tifa all sat around a polished wooden table in the underground fortress' café. Though the food that had been set in front of them was delectable, Tifa couldn't bring herself to eat more than a few bites. She was far too busy mulling the morning's events over in her mind.

Cid and Yuffie, however, were scarfing down their eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast as fast as humanly possible. Barret, who was seated between the two, looked back and forth before glancing at Red. Red merely shrugged.

"Hey," Cid mumbled through a mouthful of eggs. "Pass me the Tabasco, wouldja, Tif?" Tifa looked up and took a moment to register his request before hastily sliding him the bottle, nearly knocking it over in the process.

Tifa stared down into her steaming plate of breakfast and let out a sigh. The council had wanted to "discuss matters more thoroughly" and decided that in the meantime that ragtag group of fighters should have something to eat. Tifa turned her gaze to Vincent. He sat quietly next to her as he sipped a glass of scotch. As he tipped the vessel to his lips, Tifa caught him glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. Usually this would have caused her to immediately avert her attention elsewhere, but she was really too tired to care.

Vincent lowered his glass and set it on the table; positioning himself so that he was facing her. His crimson eyes bore into her own with some severe emotion she couldn't quite define.

"What? What is it?" She questioned with a nervous smile.

Vincent parted his lips to speak but was abruptly interrupted by Cid's palm slamming onto the table as he lapsed into an extreme coughing fit.

"Damn it, Cid!" Barret bellowed while slapping the pilot's back. "Why doncha use common sense once in a while?"

Cid eased out of his coughing attack and took one last bite of his food. "That Dean guy said that he'd show me around the hanger when I'm done," he announced without looking up.

Barret stopped all movement and then launched into his food. Quickly finishing, he rose from his seat. "Well, c'mon then, Highwind! Let's get a move on!"

Cid gave a crooked smile and then lit up another one of his Chesterfields in answer as they briskly exited from the room.

Red chuckled and then turned to Yuffie. "And what's your story?"

Yuffie looked up with an expression similar to that of a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar after bedtime. "Nothing, I'm just hungry, is all." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is there anything **wrong** with that?"

"Not at all," Red answered smugly as he saw Aiden enter the room and start towards their table. "But I do believe your escort is here."

Yuffie glanced over her shoulder and then quickly looked down at her empty plate, blushing furiously. Tifa giggled, grateful for the distraction from her racing thoughts.

"Hey guys," Aiden said boisterously with a small wave. He looked down at Yuffie. "So are you ready for a fun-filled tour of the one and only Resistance underground fortress?"

Yuffie pushed back her chair and stood. "Yeah, let's go!"

The two of them started off and Aiden launched into a speech about the various Resistance outposts in town. Yuffie threw a sneer at Red over her shoulder, sticking her tongue out at him as they exited through a different door then Cid and Barret had.

Red shook his head and smiled to himself. "Oh my…what **will** we do with her?" He turned and looked from Vincent to Tifa. "So what so you two think we should do?"

Tifa pushed away her barely touched plate of food and set her elbows on the table, leaning her chin in her hands. "Well…we could just aimlessly wander the halls until the council comes looking for us."

She glanced at Vincent, who was looking directly at her as he took another sip of his scotch. "What do you think, Vince?"

Vincent set down his glass with a soft "thunk" and then leaned back in his chair, never breaking his eye contact with Tifa. "Actually, I think someone wishes to speak with you in private," he stated in his usual flat, matter of fact tone.

At first Tifa thought he might be referring to himself and felt a pang of giddiness at the thought of him wanting to be alone with her. But she soon noticed that both he and Red were looking at someone behind her now. She pivoted in her chair to see a slightly anxious Emily Bordeaux standing behind her.

Emily wrung her hands as she nodded to Vincent and Red. "Um, hi. I wanted to talk to you, if you, if I could," she spoke softly to Tifa. Was this the same girl that had stood up so bravely against Vincent half an hour ago?

Tifa didn't know what to expect, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to talk to the girl. She turned to Vincent and Red. "You guys don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," Red replied with a shake of his mane. Vincent merely gave a slight bow of his head in answer. Tifa decided to take that as an okay.

_Geez…what's wrong with just saying, "no, Tifa, not at all?"_However, if Vincent was any other way, he wouldn't be…well, Vincent.

Still, Tifa found part of herself wanting them to object.

She turned back to Emily. "So, do we stay in here, or do you want to go somewhere else?"

"Actually," Emily replied. "We can go to my room."

-- O --

"So, I'm really sorry about how we reacted back there in the council room. We must have been pretty freaky looking."

Tifa chuckled nervously as she seated herself on Emily's comfy, green canopy bed. "Well it didn't give me a warm-fuzzy, if that's what you mean."

Emily smiled and seated herself at the other end of the bed and set her hands in her lap. "I can imagine…" She sighed and played with the beaded corner of one of her throw pillows. "It's just that after all these years…the thought of having found the one with the Gift before Darknation, it just kind of made us go all, y'know." She made a twirling motion with her forefinger and whistled.

Tifa leaned back on her palms. "Hey, it's alright, no hard feelings. I guess I can understand why…wait, before Darknation?"

Emily nodded gravely. "Yeah, Darknation would love to get their hands on the one with the Gift."

"Why is that?"

"Well, you said you saw visions, right?" Tifa nodded and Emily continued. "When did that happen? When did it start?"

Tifa put a hand to her head and looked up towards the ceiling. "Oh gosh, I don't know the day…but it was when I fist found this cigar box under the old armoire in the attic. It was full of old journal entries all signed by this woman named Marie Wolfe."

Emily sat forward; her rapt attention on Tifa's every word. "Really? What was it like?"

Tifa scoffed. "Well, terrifying, for one thing. I just heard all these weird noises; like someone recorded sounds from all over the place and played them all at once. Y'know, like whispering voices, footsteps, and other stuff."

"But you didn't **see** anything?"

"No, not until later," Tifa answered and then looked at Emily with a glint in her eyes. "When we found the secret room in the attic that I assume you were using for storage."

Emily laughed tensely. "Yeah…sorry we didn't tell you or anything but…"

"I get it. No need to explain. Anyway," Tifa picked up a dark, fuzzy stuffed bear and examined it as she spoke. "Yuffie and I were looking around in there when I found this candle with an intricate carving on it." She looked up at Emily in mock-accusation. "The one that you denied ever seeing, by the way."

Emily put up a hand and smiled broadly. "My bad."

"Yeah, so when I looked closer at it, I sort of zoned out and ended up in someone else's body. I was carrying these kids, Timothy and Seraphine, down a mountain as the Kingsmen were chasing me. But I ended up breaking my leg when I fell down the riverbank. I saw the kids get on the ferry and then seemed to come out of my body as these big, huge dogs came down the bank and ripped me, or whoever I was, apart." Tifa sighed and then met Emily's eyes again.

"Wow…I can see why you thought you were going crazy," Emily stated as she rubbed her chin. "That sounds horrifying."

Tifa's sighed as she hugged her newfound plushy friend to herself. "You're telling me."

"Do you mind me asking what the body you were in looked like?"

Tifa thought for a moment. "I didn't get to look at it much, being that I was inside of it most of the time. But she had blonde ringlets, was pretty thin, and had a high voice, almost like she was singing when she spoke."

"So you were Grace Royal, then. Very interesting," Emily looked down into her lap, deep in thought. "It's almost as thought the talisman was showing you the past it's been through. Fascinating!"

Tifa raised an eyebrow so high that Vincent would be proud. "Er, no meaning to be a bother, but could you explain? I'm feeling a little out of the loop, here."

Emily looked up with wide eyes and then laughed to herself. "Sorry, I get that way sometimes. I just stop what I'm doing and launch into thinking mode. Grace was the name of the woman who helped so many of the Resistance escape to Sráidbhaile. She was also the one who took care of Marie's children. She gave her life to save them."

"But what were you saying about the talisman? How could it be showing me anything?"

Emily blinked rapidly and began ripping a small candy wrapper that she had found on the bed into pieces out of nervous energy. "That's part of what the talisman does. It's almost like a video and audio recorder of the things that go on around it. It plays them over and over, but only the one with the Gift can see it, or hear it, as you've done."

"Okay," Tifa said slowly. "But I've never seen the talisman, how could it have…er, communicated with me?"

Emily stopped her absent-minded ripping and brushed her palms off on each other. "It's been hidden." Tifa must have looked as confused as she was because Emily continued. "I melted it into that candle. My family makes them, you know."

Tifa's gasped in realization. "So you were the ones who stole it from Darknation after they stole it from that Warren guy?"

Emily nodded and then giggled girlishly. "An excellent job done by yours truly, if I don't say so myself."

"It was you!?" Tifa gasped.

"Don't act so surprised," Emily said with a sweet smile. "Just because I'm a girl, it doesn't mean I'm not capable of larceny." She laughed again at Tifa's bemused expression. "But it's not like I didn't have some help. Anyway, that's not really that important. We have it now, and Darknation doesn't, that's what matters."

Tifa frowned and bit her lip. "Yeah, but Darknation blamed it on Vincent."

"Sorry about that, but it wasn't our fault he showed up. Darknation would have had no clue who it was if they hadn't been able to blame it on your friend." Emily then folded her knees and laid her chin on them. "I would like to know how they found out we were back. As far as they knew, they had wiped us out."

Tifa looked down at the stuffed animal in her lap and then suddenly remembered a question she had. "You said that Grace took care of Timothy and Seraphine…why? What happened to Marie?"

Emily looked down solemnly. "She fell ill shortly before she left home with Timothy. It was a miracle that she made it through childbirth in the condition she was in when the time came. She died the very next day."

Tifa couldn't help but feel sorrow at this. Strange as it may have seemed, she had felt a sort of bond with this mysterious woman from the past. "I see. Well, that scary old lady said that I was the "lost daughter of the Resistance." What does that mean?"

Emily inhaled deeply and straightened out her thin legs. "The Gift is passed down through the mother. Timothy wouldn't have inherited it from Marie, but Seraphine would have. Since Timothy was adopted by a family who survived the massacre at Sráidbhaile, he grew up knowing of his lineage, but Seraphine was lost to us. She would have grown up without ever knowing about her abilities."

"So if I have the gift," Tifa continued. "That means that my mother did also, and my grandmother." Things were starting to come together for the first time in what seemed to Tifa like an eternity. "I never knew my grandmother…not even her name. Could she have been…?"

"I think so," Emily answered Tifa's rhetorical question absently. "I mean, it makes sense."

Tifa was in awe at this newfound information. She had never known much about her mother, being that she had died when Tifa was only eight. Her father never spoke about her history, so Tifa had never asked. It just hadn't seemed relevant at the time. But now, she wished that she had questioned him.

Unfortunately, now it was too late.

But then there was Timothy. If he had children of his own…Tifa felt a jolt of excitement at the prospect of actually having living family. "Well, what about Timothy, then? That means I'm related to him too."

Emily smiled broadly and sat up on her knees. "He was adopted into the family of Louis and Mildred Bordeaux and ended up marrying their daughter."

Tifa's eyes went wide and Emily's smile became all the more ample. "So I guess that makes us second cousins or something like that." Tifa's brows knitted together and she looked down into her lap again.

"Um…" Emily said nervously. "Did I say something wrong?"

Tifa looked up with slightly misty eyes. "No…it's just that…I thought I didn't have any family left. I'm just so…so happy."

Emily's smile faltered and she leaned forward to fold Tifa into a hug. "Me too, Tifa, me too."

When Emily released Tifa and sat back, Tifa smiled and then exploded into laughter.

"What? What is it?" Emily asked while looking all around to spot the reason for Tifa's outburst.

Tifa calmed herself enough to answer. "C-Cloud! I totally forgot! He must have been surprised!" Tifa lapsed into another bout of giggles as Emily scratched the back of her head.

"Well, he was a little upset that I'd been hiding it from him at first…that is, until he was distracted by all the wonderful toys we have here." Tifa met Emily's eyes and then they both burst into side-splitting laughter.

"I can see it now," Tifa managed to say between guffaws. "You lied to me! I never - Oh look! Really big, shiny guns!"

Emily gave a mock-shocked look and clobbered Tifa with the beaded throw pillow she had been holding. "Hey! That's my boyfriend you're talking about!"

Quickly recovering from the attack, Tifa reached over and grabbed another pillow and began to hit Emily with a barrage of puffy punches. It wasn't long before the sound of wild laugher echoed down the hallway outside the room and feathers that had been liberated from their silky prisons floated freely about the room as two grown women found respite in the fact that they were no longer alone.

-- O --

9


	17. Fire!

A Grim History

Fire!

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"So you guys are all here because of this Darknation thing too?"

Cloud stood next to Barret and Cid with his arms crossed and his brows knit.

"Yeah," Cid responded as he lit up one of his Chesterfields. "But we really didn't expect to find you here. It was a- oh shit!" Cid quickly shook out the match that had just finished burning his fingers.

Cloud then began laughing heartily, which received a death glare from the miffed pilot. Barret rolled his eyes at his blonde friends and then looked up as one of the doors closest to them slid open. Tifa and Emily stepped through the threshold looking disheveled; with messy hair and wrinkled clothing.

"Hey, Tif, what's up?" he asked as Cid and Cloud ceased their bickering and looked towards the new arrivers.

"Not a whole lot," Tifa responded. "And yourself?"

"Well, Dean here," Cid gestured over his shoulder. "He was showing us around the hanger when we ran into Strife. We were plenty surprised to find him here, yup."

Cloud snickered and clapped the pilot on the back. "Yeah, I should say so! I mean, the way you were cussin' up a storm, and all!"

The whole group chuckled at this and Tifa rolled her eyes and then took a moment to study their get-away car driver, or rather bus driver, Dean Preston. Now that he wasn't sporting a helmet, Tifa could see that the man had dark, thinning hair and a goatee as well as a jagged scar running the length of his left profile. _I'll bet that there's an interesting story to go with that,_ Tifa thought to herself as she rubbed her chin in contemplation. _Heck, I'll bet that everyone here has an interesting story to tell._

Just then, Yuffie and Aiden approached the group from somewhere else in the hanger. "Hey guys," Yuffie chirped and then did a double take when she spotted Cloud standing between Barret and Cid. "What the-" She looked over her shoulder at Aiden who shrugged and then she gaped back at Cloud; blinking a few times before shrugging herself. "Meh, I don't know why anything surprises me anymore. This has definitely been one crazy night."

"Morning, you mean. It hasn't been night for hours," a deep baritone voice spoke just next to Tifa's left ear, sending shivers down her spine. Vincent, the owner of said voice, gave a short nod to Cloud that bordered on curt. Cloud blinked and then nodded in return.

Red, who had seated himself next to Yuffie, spoke up. "Aiden, Emily," he locked eyes with each of them as he said their names. "The leaders of the council sent us over to let you know they wish to speak with you." The two nodded and obediently left the group to join an assemblage of four or five individuals Tifa recognized from the council room who were situated near one of the many sliding metal doors.

The seven comrades who were left behind watched in silence as the members of the Resistance spoke in hushed tones. Aiden and Emily nodded in unison as they were briefed on the council's decision for a course of action. Tifa noted to herself that none of the party, not even the usually jovial Aiden, wore an expression other than a serious frown.

Yuffie was the first one to break the silence. "Am I the only one who's got this ominous feeling that something awful is gonna happen?"

"Nah," Cid answered. "Not really…I kinda feel the same way." Barret hummed to himself in agreement and Cloud shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"I don't know the whole story," the blonde ex-soldier replied. "But Em's seemed real worried these days."

Tifa hugged her arms to herself and shivered; not because she was cold, per-say, but because she felt the same way. It was a sense of foreboding. But, in all honesty, she had been feeling that way for quite a while now, only now, she knew what she was up against. Strange, she had thought that would make the feeling go away. _It really isn't helping that Cloud's here, either._

Vincent, noticing Tifa's shivering, removed his black leather jacket and set it over her shaking shoulders. The gesture earned a quick grimace from Cloud, but no one seemed to notice because they were either completely oblivious or simply didn't care. Tifa met Vincent's eyes and whispered a thank you which he accepted with a slight emotionless nod. He then turned his attention to Aiden and Emily, who were making their way back to the circle of companions.

"The council has decided that we should accompany you back to the house to retrieve the Talisman." Aiden said as he sidled up next to Yuffie. "They figure now that Darknation has undoubtedly connected you to us, it is no longer safe in the secret room."

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Barret asked crossly. "Do we just sit and wait for Darknation to come and attack us again?"

"No kiddin'," Cid chimed in, pushing his goggles further back on his head. "If these guys are as dangerous as you say then it looks like we're shit outta luck."

Emily shook her head. "That's why the council has decided that you can stay here if you wish to. We can offer you room and board as well as whatever safety we still have."

"But what will that accomplish?" Yuffie questioned with arms akimbo. "I mean, what good will it do? How is hiding gonna help the situation?"

Tifa thought a moment and then sighed. "Yuffie's right. We could stay here with you, but for how long? What about our lives? I mean, I still have the tavern to run." She paused as she slipped her hands through the arms of Vincent's pre-warmed jacket. "Not to mention the fact that some of us have family to get back to."

Dean Preston, who had seemingly been listening in on the conversation, stepped up. "My men are currently making plans for an attack that will finally put an end to Darknation. It's just that the council won't support any of the strategies we present."

"Well what's up with that?" Cid burst out. "That's the only real solution to this problem! Just take the bastards out at their roots!"

Emily sighed heavily and rubbed the back of her neck. "If only it were that simple. You see, we still can't pinpoint the location of Darknation's base. We may know the identity of some of their lesser members," she added the next statement with a glare towards the council members behind her. "But since we haven't identified their leaders, the council doesn't want to risk it."

Cid opened his mouth to speak, but Emily cut him off, as if she knew what he was going to say. "And it wouldn't do any good to kill off the members we **have** identified. That would only let Darknation know that we're stronger and we'd lose our element of surprise."

Cid closed his mouth and crushed his cigarette underneath his boot. "Well then it looks like we're all screwed then, don't it?" Yuffie rolled her eyes at the pilot. "Don't be so optimistic, Cid."

"Well, whatever we decide to do," Red interrupted as Cid began to retort, "The fact remains that we have to retrieve the Talisman from Tifa's house. I suggest we do it as soon as possible, since it is undoubtedly already light outside."

Dean cleared his throat and once everyone looked his way, he gestured towards the deceptively average city bus they had arrived in. "Well, I'm ready when ya'll are."

-- O --

Tifa climbed the porch steps to her home while trying to fish her evasive house key from her pocket. The fact that she hadn't slept for nearly twenty-four hours was certainly not aiding her lack of manual dexterity. She silently cheered when she was finally able to wrap her trembling fingers around the cold metal of her quarry.

"Alright!" she said to no one in particular as she twisted the key in its lock. The heavy wooden front door creaked open and the morning sunlight cut through the cold blackness of her empty home. Emily entered first and began opening the curtains on all of the windows she could find.

"Emily," Aiden huffed, "we're here on serious business, there's no time to play homemaker."

Completely ignoring his statements, Emily finished her quest and then approached Tifa. "I've never been through the inner entrance to Marie's room before. It's in the attic, right?"

Tifa nodded and then turned to Aiden, who, from the sour expression on his face, didn't take kindly to being ignored. _One more thing he has in common with Yuffie,_ she thought to herself. "So the rest of you are planning on waiting down here?"

"Yeah," Aiden replied with a sigh. "I guess we'll chill in the kitchen or something." He then looked over his shoulder and beckoned to the others before heading off through the kitchen door. Cid traipsed in through the doorway and immediately made a beeline for the corner bar while mumbling something about needing "somethin' with a helluva kick."

Vincent, however, didn't follow the rest of the group and stepped up next to Tifa. "I would prefer to join you."Emily shrugged and turned on her heel. "Suit yourself." All three of them proceeded to climb the staircase.

"So how long have you been the owner of this house?" Emily questioned as they reached the attic door.

"Not that long," Tifa answered with a grunt as she pulled down the ladder door. "I moved in only about seven or eight months ago. I had a construction company do the renovation work to turn the house on the property next door into a tavern." The ladder hit the floor with a solid _thunk_. "So are you ready?"

Emily nodded and Tifa led the way up into the dark, stuffy attic. She found it kind of amazing how hot it was up there despite the fact that it was rather mild outside. Vincent, who was the last one up the ladder, pulled the chain to the bare bulb on the ceiling and then scanned the area with his severe crimson eyes. The gesture only reminded Tifa of how much danger they were in, and she shivered before heading toward the old armoire at the end of the attic.

"Here it is," Tifa said as she pulled the back of the great wooden piece from the wall to create a gap large enough to fit through. She stepped back as Emily moved forward with an almost reverent look etched in her features.

"How did you discover this entrance, again?"

Tifa reached up and rubbed the back of her head. "Actually, it was Vincent who figured it out, not me." She turned to look at her darkly clad friend but his attention seemed to be somewhere else other than the conversation the two young women were having. His eyes vacantly scanned the shadows as he rubbed his chin in thought.

"Something on your mind, Vince?"

Vincent was immediately snapped from his contemplation and he met Tifa's eyes with a blank expression on his face. "Yes, actually I have quite a number of things on my mind."

Tifa smiled brightly. "Well, that's nothing unusual, I suppose."

It was then that Emily emerged from the secret room with a familiar dark blue candle in her hands. She held the candle out to Tifa, but Tifa hesitated to take it. She remembered what had happened the last time she touched it. "Why are you giving this to me?" she asked quietly.

"Nobody really knows the full powers of the Talisman, so I think it's just safer if you're the one to hold onto it."

Tifa cautiously received the candle from Emily and when it didn't bite her or send her into another terrifying hallucination, she looked up at her newly found cousin. "It might be easier to hide if it weren't in this candle."

Emily stuck out her lip in a pout. "That was quite possibly my best work…but you're going to have to break it." She then heaved a sigh and took the candle back from Tifa. She snapped the candle in half to reveal the Talisman that had been harbored so safely inside. Tifa noted that it looked exactly like the picture Yuffie had shown them.

"Wow," Tifa gasped as Emily set the two halves of blue wax down and turned the golden artifact over in her hands.

"Here," Emily said as she reached up and removed the golden chain she had around her neck. She threaded the chain through one of the holes carved into the edge of the relic and pocketed the golden angel pendant that had been on the chain to begin with. Satisfied with the outcome, she smiled and passed the piece to Tifa.

"Thanks," Tifa replied as she held the Talisman up towards the light and watched as the bloodstone gleamed and sparkled.

"Miss Bordeaux, you never did explain the visions that Tifa has been experiencing." Emily turned to Vincent as Tifa continued to muse over the item in her possession.

"Well, like I said before, we don't really know why the Talisman does the things it does, but it seems to have something almost like memories. It's complicated, but the one with the Gift, comes from a long line of especially sensitive women. Only women with this heightened sensitivity can hear, see, or even experience, these 'memories'."

Just then, Tifa felt a pang of fear and expectancy shoot through her body. "Something-"But she was cut off by an explosion that rocked the building and sent her careening into one of the stacks of boxes along the wall.

"Wh-what was that!?" Emily exclaimed as she brought a hand to her ringing ear.

Tifa listened intently and started to hear distant screams. "I don't know, but let's find out!"

Vincent led the way as the three dashed through the secret room and down the back stairs. Once outside, Tifa looked all around. "The house seems to be just fine…so what-" Her eyes widened as the once distant screams sounded much closer now. "The restaurant!"

Sprinting around the side of the house with Vincent and Emily on her heels, she tucked the Talisman down into her pocket. As the bar came into view Tifa could see angry red flames and thick black smoke rising out of the bar. She skidded to a stop as she nearly collided with a frantic woman fleeing the burning building.

"Ma'am, what happened!?" Tifa shouted and then spotted the others rounding the other side of the house.

"I-I don't know, but we have to get help," the woman replied while gasping for breath. "There're still people inside!"

Tifa gasped in horror as the woman pushed past her and fled towards the road. By this time, all the others had reached them. "What do we do!?" Yuffie shouted. "Some guy back there told us that there are a ton of people trapped inside still!"

Tifa's mind reeled as she recognized Charlotte among those who had escaped. She was shouting into her cell phone and Tifa jogged up to her. "Charlotte! Where're Fergy and Keaton?"

Charlotte, who appeared to be on the phone with the fire department, placed a hand over the receiver. "They're still inside, Tifa, but I don't know where." Suddenly, Tifa saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Nanaki charging into the burning building with Cloud and Barret hot on his heels.

"Yuffie!" Tifa yelled over shoulder. "Look for any injured who have escaped, I'm going in!"

Yuffie nodded and dashed off toward the small group of customers who had congregated in the dirt parking lot. With that, Tifa darted towards the rapidly blazing structure with Emily striding beside her.

Seeing that the wooden porch entrance had fallen in, blocking the door, Tifa pulled up a heavy paving stone from the walkway and shattered one of the large front windows. "Come on!" She climbed through, carefully avoiding the sharp edges of glass and leapt into the tavern's dining room. Flames gnawed angrily at the curtains hanging along the side of the window and were quickly climbing up to lick at the ceiling.

Tifa saw Emily charge away from her over towards the bar. _She must have spotted _someone. That's when she heard it. Someone was screaming for help. Tifa frantically looked around her and felt someone brush past her on her left. She nodded to Cid before exiting through the window and coming outside. She could hear the shouts more clearly now…but where were they coming from?

Quickly, she ran to the large, busted window on the other side of the porch. She peered inside and realized that it might be Keaton. After all, she hadn't seen him among those who had escaped. With new determination, she slipped through the window and ducked below the acrid smoke that billowed out through the window pane.

Getting down on her hands and knees to avoid the smoke, she worked her way forward; all the while calling out Keaton's name.

-- O --

Red XIII, Barret, and Cloud made their way around to the back of the building, which sported a large hole from the explosion that had occurred. That's when they spotted a flash of pink through one of the second story windows and heard the shrill sound of a woman wailing. "Someone's up there!" Red shouted. He immediately leapt onto the dumpster, then onto the roof of the first story before disappearing through the hole into the loft above.

Cloud and Barret wasted no time in breaking through the back door that lead into the kitchen. "Tifa said something about the cook still being in here," Barret told Cloud quickly as the ceiling above them cracked ominously. Cloud scanned the piles of rubble in the room before catching a movement in the corner. "There!"

Both he and Barret pushed their way through the piles of wood and brick and reached a man who was trapped under the fallen vent that was once above the kitchen's stove.

"Would you mind giving me a hand here?" the burly man shouted as he struggled to breathe under the weight of the stainless steel mess.

Barret and Cloud instantly began attempting to haul the weighty fixture off of the man. With a struggle, they managed to push it off of him before the charred ceiling began to collapse. Together, they drug and pulled the broken and burned man towards the door.

"The wood shake shingles are acting as kindling!" the man shouted. "The roof won't hold much longer!"

Cloud looked up at Barret and then backed up as the muscular black man lifted who they assumed was the cook, Fergus, up over his shoulder. Cloud began to forge a path through the ruble back towards the door. The heat from the stifling air was starting to make it hard to breathe, but the three men soon made it outside in time to watch the kitchen roof fall in and kick up a spray of hot ash and splintered wood.

"Thanks," Fergus said with a grunt as Barret carried him a safe distance from the burning tavern. "I know it wasn't smart to stay there, but I was just trying to get to the pilot light on the gas stove to turn it off." He paused as a Barret set him on the ground and gazed back at the rapidly falling pub. "But I suppose it really doesn't matter now anyway…there'll be no saving this place."

-- O --

Aiden coughed as the smoke that was surrounding him filled his lungs. "Hello! Hello! Is anyone here!?" Getting down on his hands and knees, he searched beneath the tables and amongst the piles of drywall that had been blow from the wall. He spied a young woman lying underneath a table that was frighteningly close to an approaching flame.

With a newfound speed, Aiden crawled over the ruble as shards of glass and splinters of wood bit into his hands. "Hey, are you alright!?" There was no answer, and he pushed aside a chair in order to reach the woman.

Rolling her over, he found that she had a nasty gash on her head that was oozing blood, but she was still breathing. Hoisting her into his arms, he began his painstakingly slow journey back to the exit all the while aware that the building was weakening quickly and could collapse very soon.

-- O --

A wall of flame now burned between Red and the young blonde who was shrieking in the corner. With a deep breath that burned his lungs, he lunged through the fire and skidded to a stop on the other side. He turned to the frightened girl who cowered away from him. "I am here to save you, but we do not have much time!"

The girl stood and despite the many bruises and scratches that adorned her pale skin, she followed Red as he searched for a way out. He knew that the chances of the structure holding up much longer were slim; they needed to get out of there as soon as possible. He halted when he spotted a busted window that was above the front entrance.

The girl quickly came up behind him. "Mister Tiger, sir! The fire is too close! There's no way we can get to the stairs!"

_This is indeed a problem_, Red thought as he glanced at the forthcoming flames that raced their way across the carpeted floor. "Come," he said after a fast decision. "We have to jump."

"Jump! N-no I can't do that! I have weak ankles! I'll-"

Red roared angrily. "You don't have a choice!" He then nudged the shaking girl to the window. "Now, **jump**!"

The blonde whimpered, and then climbed up on the window sill. She looked reluctantly down at the ground below, before shutting her eyes tight and dropping from sight. Red didn't waste a moment in following her out.

-- O --

Emily looked over towards the bar and spotted a man that was trying to pull himself towards them despite the fact that one of his legs was obviously broken. She rushed forward and pushed aside the upturned furniture that stood in her path. "Sir, I'm coming to help you! Please stay still!"

The man coughed and grimaced as the action shook his chest. "My daughter…" he managed to say. "She's back here, but I can't carry her. Please…"

"Look out!" Emily heard someone shout and then felt something push into her side which knocked her into a broken table. She felt pain shoot up her arm as she glanced down to see that her hand had fallen on a broken bottle and now was leaking her life's fluid onto the debris littered on the ground. She glanced back to see Cid Highwind picking himself up off the floor and pushing away a newly fallen ceiling fan aside.

"Sorry, hun, but you were about to be flattened. Now c'mon! We gotta get these two outta here!"

Emily nodded and picked herself up and carefully made her way to the man's toddler who was hiding beneath a chair. "I won't hurt you; you can trust me, okay!" The young girl nodded and then allowed herself to be scooped into Emily's arms. Cid hefted the injured man over his shoulder. Together, he and Emily rushed towards the window they had come in, but Tifa was nowhere in sight.

-- O --

The sounds and smells that turbulently milled about in the air accosted Vincent's heightened senses as he surged toward the burning building. He saw Tifa and Emily go in through one of the huge front windows and determined to follow them in to ensure Tifa's safety, what with her new-found adversaries undoubtedly being the cause of this mayhem.

But a flash of red in the green forest to his left caught his eye. Digging in his heel, Vincent came to a complete stop and stared intensely into the growth. There, a flash of red. No normal human eye would've caught it, but then, normal was not a word one would ever use to describe Vincent Valentine.

His hand lingering over the holster of the pistol he had strapped to his side, Vincent studied the minute movements of the individual hidden by the leaves of the thick undergrowth. He heard the hammer of a hidden firearm cock and in an instinctive move, side-stepped the bullet that followed, whizzing past his watching eyes.

A gasp sounded from the concealed assailant and that's all it took for Vincent to pinpoint his position. In seconds, he had cleared the gap between them and had the barrel of his gun pressed against the back of the intruder's head. "Don't move."

"Are you going to shoot me, Valentine?" The black-cloaked figure said with morbid amusement tainting his voice, the scarlet lining of his cape flashing sunlight.

"It would be a mistake believing I won't."

The masked man chuckled. "So be it." He reached both of his hands up into the air above his head. Then, in one swift action, he spun around discharged several throwing daggers in Vincent's direction. Vincent easily evaded the blades and fired one round in the direction of his fleeing attacker. The man fell instantly and then remained motionless in the forest brush as Vincent brushed the dirt from his pant leg.

Pity. He would've liked to get some answers before having to kill the miserable excuse for an assassin.

-- O --

Tifa crawled in the direction she heard the shout come from. "Who's there!? Keaton, is that you!? I'm coming to help!" The smoke was thick and black as it plumed above her head against the ceiling. Then she heard it again. Someone was shouting…it was coming from upstairs! She switched directions and when she reached the back stairway, she began the treacherous climb up on her hands and knees.

The heat from the fire caused beads of sweat to roll down her face as she cautiously tested each step before placing her weight on it. Finally, after reaching the top, she looked around the room. There was a huge hole blown in the wall opposite her, but she was separated from it by a menacing wall of flames.

The building creaked and groaned threateningly and Tifa realized that she didn't have much time. She knew that Keaton must be up here. Continuing her crawling, she began to shout. "Keaton! Keaton, are you here!? It's Tifa!"

There was a sudden movement to her left that she caught out of the corner of her eye. Turning quickly, she spotted a flash of what looked like clothing. "Hello!?" she shouted once more.

The floor beneath her groaned and though she tried to back away, the boards under her hands gave way and fell into the room below. Tifa let out a scream and leapt back ward away from the widening hole. She had to find Keaton soon, or they were both goners.

She stood slightly and began a stooped walk towards where she had seen the movement. Suddenly, a loud crack was heard from the protesting ceiling above her as the roof began to cave in on top of her. In a swift and instinctive move, she threw herself against the wall to avoid being crushed, but lost her balance and ripped her jeans open on a sharp splinter of wood.

She clenched her teeth to avoid screeching out in pain as blood began to seep from her scratch. Looking down, she noticed that her pocket had been torn off as well. Tifa frantically searched the floor and found the talisman balancing on a board just beyond her right foot, shimmering and winking in the firelight. She rose and snatched the talisman from its resting place. She clutched it tightly to herself as she pressed her free hand against her leg wound in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

That was it, she didn't have a choice; she had to get out of here. She was nearly to the stairs again when she heard a shuffle behind her. She abruptly stopped and turned just in time to see a broken wooden spindle from the staircase speeding towards her face. There was a moment of mind-numbing pain, and then a muffled ringing, and then her body crumpled limply to the floor.

-- O --

10


	18. Fears and Confessions

A Grim History

Fears and Confessions

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Emily set the little girl on the dirt ground of the parking lot and then looked around at all those gathered there. She turned back to the new Seventh Heaven just in time to see the roof cave in on one area. She caught a movement next to her and turned to see Vincent was now standing next to her.

"Where is Tifa?" he demanded.

Emily gasped in alarm. "I-I don't know…you haven't seen her?" She began to furiously scan the crowd again. Everyone was there; everyone except Tifa. She whirled back to Vincent with wild eyes. "We were separated sometime while in the bar! She must still be in there!"

In an instant Vincent was off toward the blazing structure once more. Yuffie, who had heard the conversation followed behind with Emily right after her. Sirens could be heard in the distance as the three plunged back into the burning building.

Yuffie and Emily entered through the closest front window while Vincent ran around to the back. "I saw her come out, so she isn't on the other side…she must be in here somewhere," Emily shouted above the sound of the roaring fire and falling debris.

"There!" Yuffie pointed toward a gaping hole in the ceiling where there was a mass of chocolate brown hair hanging over the jagged edge. The two young women surged forward, dashing between the broken furniture pieces and dodging the flames that attempted to lick their calves.

"Tifa!" Yuffie shouted, but they both knew that she must have been unconscious.

Once they were right under her, Emily turned to Yuffie. "Give me a boost; I'll try to get her down. We can't risk the stairs." Yuffie nodded and threaded her fingers together to form a foothold for the petite redhead. With the added height of a still standing table, Emily was able to reach Tifa's limp form.

It was no easy task pulling her down safely, but somehow the two of them were able to do it and emerged from the front window just as the firemen began to blast the tavern with their high-powered hoses.

Emily set Tifa on the grass and crouched down to catch her breath. Yuffie was having trouble keeping upright after the exposure to the smoke. They were grateful when Vincent carried Tifa back away from the blazing inferno for them.

It didn't take long for the firefighters to put out the flames, but by then, there was no salvaging the remains. The roof had completely fallen in, and all that was left was the broken brick outline of a building that was filled up with soaked ash and debris. A caravan of ambulances came to carry away the injured, which the rescuers redirected to avoid the public hospital. They went straight to the Resistance's private clinic.

-- O --

Yuffie, Cid, Barret, and Red sat silently around a table in the Resistance's fortress mess hall. Barret nursed a glass of whiskey while Cid cleaned his favorite modified shotgun. Yuffie stared down into her tea and grimaced. "I wonder if Tifa's awake yet."

"They said they would inform us the minute she was conscious." Red answered slowly as the young ninja glanced up at him.

Yuffie returned her gaze to her tea, and Cid, who was chewing on a toothpick in light of his lack of cigarettes, pushed his chair away from the table, his face grim. "Well, I'm gonna call Shera and let her know what happened. They're gonna need some better protection, I think." He rose and left the table just as Cloud approached. Seeing that Cid was headed towards the phones by the door, he took the pilot's seat.

"They finished patching up Em and Aiden," he reported as he crossed his soot stained arms. "Luckily, they didn't have anything more than minor cuts and bruises, so they should be okay." Yuffie looked up at Cloud expectantly. He immediately caught her drift and responded before she even uttered a word.

"Tifa still hasn't woken up yet. They had to give her some drugs for the wound on her leg that should have her out for a while. They also said that Tifa suffered from a blow to the head." He gestured to the area above his right eye. "Do you suppose she tripped and fell?"

Barret shook his head. "That Emily girl said that Tif was on her back…so she didn't fall on anything."

"Well, maybe she ran into something? I don't know. I'm just spit-balling here." Cloud looked down momentarily with a crestfallen expression, but then immediately snapped his eyes back up. He let out a big yawn and rubbed his eyes. "What I **do** know is that I really need some sleep. We're lucky that we made it back here. Emily's father told me that we could use the showers and stuff if we wanted."

"A shower **does** sound nice, I suppose," Yuffie added in with a sigh.

Barret nodded in agreement and then downed the rest of his beverage.

"Whaddya mean you don't know!? Parker, don't you jerk with me!" The attention of the group turned to the coarse pilot who was on one of the phone lines across the room.

"No…are ya sure?...You can't be serious…no…right, well let me know…shit…no, yer not fired, just find 'em, okay?" Cid slammed down the receiver and strung a line of cusses from the phones to the table.

"What's got your panties in a wad, Cid?" Yuffie asked irritably.

"It's Shera and the kids," he said in a near growl. "They never got to Rocket Town."

Barret immediately sprang from his seat, nearly toppling the table over onto Yuffie in the process. "What!? But they should have been there hours ago!"

"I know," Cid added grimly. "And it's not like Evans to be late to anything. He's anal like that."

Now it was Cloud's turn to leap up. "Wait, so you don't think that Darknation…" He stopped there, but everyone else knew what he was thinking.

"Now let's not get hasty," Red stated calmly but his features were etched with worry. "Perhaps they were just detained somewhere for something mundane. Shera is pregnant after all. The car ride can't have been at all comfortable for her. Did Evans have a cell phone?"

"Yeah, but he's not answerin', which makes me think somethin's up. He's anal about that too." Cid pulled the toothpick from his lips, but then seemed to think better of it and shoved it back between his teeth. "That's it; we gotta look for 'em!"

Yuffie slid out of her chair and began to nervously chew on her already short fingernails. "Where do we even begin? There are a million ways to get to Rocket Town."

"I gave him a special route to follow. It follows the back roads that used to be used by a smuggling firm a while back. I figured that it would be easier for Evans to rush if he didn't have to worry about getting' caught by the cops." Cid then picked his shotgun up off the floor where it had fallen and slung it up over his shoulder.

He turned to Barret, who had a very serious, very **scary**, look on his face. "Since we know which way they went," the towering man cracked his neck with one swift movement. "I vote we set up a search party and get out there as soon as possible."

-- O --

It hadn't taken them long to spot it. After all, it was pretty hard to miss the dark black skid marks that went straight off the side of the road and the broken brush path that led off into the woods. Dean pulled the black van that he was driving over to the side of the road and put the vehicle in park. "I think it's pretty safe to say you guys might wanna look around," he said in his usual slow drawl.

The passengers began to file out of the automobile; Barret first since he was sitting up front, then Cid, Yuffie, Aiden, Cloud, Emily, and Red XIII. Barret stretched and regarded the trail grimly. He looked back to the others. Cid pushed his goggles back on his head and then spat into the dusty shoulder beside the road.

"We should split up," Emily suggested as she pulled the sliding side door of the van shut. "One group should stay with the van, and then the others can investigate this more closely." She looked from Barret to Cid to Yuffie to Red. They all wore expressions of worry and seemed to be itching to search for Shera and the kids.

"I'll stay here with Dean," she offered softly. "Why don't you guys get going."

Cloud frowned, then stepped forward and crossed his arms. "I'll stay too. It'll be safer with three of us here."

With that, the others began their trek into the forest. A chilly wind rustled the leaves on the trees whose branches hung stiflingly low over them. Yuffie paused as she looked up into the canopy of green above her and shivered at the eeriness of it all. Not a single bird was singing.

Suddenly, Barret drew a quick breath and then sped off towards what everyone instantly recognized as a deserted vehicle. But as he grew closer, Barret felt his stomach drop to his toes. The car was completely wrecked. New fear burning at his throat, he skidded to a stop at the driver's side window. He peered in the cracked window, but saw no one. _Wait a minute!_

Yuffie arrived at the vehicle just in time to see Barret's hulking shoulders pull out of the left rear door. He stood and looked down at the little stuffed tiger in his hands. "Marlene…"

She turned away from the man and noticed Red sniffing an area about ten meters away. He looked off to his right and then looked over his shoulder back to the group. "Cid," he called. "I believe I've found Evans."

Cid looked up from his investigation of the front hood of the vehicle, which was crumpled up from being smashed into the tree it now hugged so tightly. He turned and stalked quickly over to where Red was standing. But as soon as he arrived at the spot he stopped in his tracks, and his usually high held shoulders slumped.

Yuffie cautiously approached to witness for herself what had rendered her belligerent friend speechless. When she reached them, she immediately understood. Evans, the spirited character that she had seen only yesterday, lay in the clearing face-down, his back pumped full of bullet holes.

"Damn it, Evans," Cid mumbled as he wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. "You were only doing your job."

Just then, Yuffie heard something rustle in the brush. She figured Red must have heard it because his ears perked up. "Hey, guys," she said in a near whisper. "There could still be someone out here, y'know."

Cid reached up and pulled his shotgun from the sling on his back. "Well, they had better hope I don't get hold of 'em!"

She heard the sound again this time, but now it was loud enough that everyone, even Aiden and Barret who were standing farther away, could hear a rustling and then a twig snap. Cid swung the barrel of his firearm around to the tall brush the sound was continuing to come from, gritting his teeth with anticipation.

Red sniffed the air, and then his eyes widened. "Wait, Cid! Don't shoot!"

Cid dropped his aim with a question resounding on his face when all at once, a figure came darting out of the brush and ran straight into him, wrapping its arms round his abdomen.

"Denzel!" Barret rushed forward and the boy released Cid to embrace his adoptive father.

The boy began to spill out words like his life depended on it but only half of them were intelligible between his sobs and gasps for breath. He clung to Barret until he calmed down enough to speak clearly. Barret then held Denzel out at arms' length and Red stepped forward.

"Denzel," he asked sternly, yet not without kindness. "What happened here? Where are Marlene and Shera?"

"Then men in the black cloaks took them," Denzel sniffed and then rubbed the tears from his face.

"So it was Darknation, then," Aiden growled.

Denzel nodded. "I think that's what I heard Mr. Evans say, that is…before they…" He trailed off and then winced in pain. Both Barret and Red took a step forward.

He shifted his weight back to his left leg and looked from Barret to Red with new tears welling in his eyes. "It's just my ankle…I think…I think I may have broken it." They could all tell that he was trying so hard to be strong.

"C'mere, kid. Let's get you back to the clinic." With that, Barret hoisted Denzel up onto his shoulders with a grunt and started back to the van.

"Yeah," Cid sighed angrily as he and the others followed Barret back. "I 'spose that there's nothin' more we can do here anyway." But then he halted in his steps. Yuffie glanced back to see him staring down at nothing in particular with his hands balled into fists. "Those bastards," he seethed. "They're gonna pay for this."

-- O --

The world was a blur of color, light, faces, darkness, pain, and numbness as Tifa floated in and out of consciousness. She could hear all manner of commotion about her and sirens were wailing but when the pain started up, she decided not to fight the sleep that was trying so desperately to overtake her.

It wasn't until much later that Tifa had her next brush with the conscious world. Her mind faded out of the fog of sleep, but she could tell even through her eyelids that the room was far too bright for her liking. She reached up to cover her eyes with her hand and brushed past a rough material. Curious, she used her fingers to explore her forehead and found it wrapped in a bandage.

_The fire…I hit something, no. Someone hit me. I must be in a clinic. That would certainly explain these stupid lights._

Tifa attempted to open her eyes to see where she was, but the light seemed to cut straight through them into her brain and she immediately snapped them shut. Placing her arm back down at her side, she tried to recall what all had happened. It had all happened so fast that her throbbing head was having trouble remembering much of it.

_Ugh, I give up. Thinking is just making my head hurt even worse. What I need to do is figure out how to turn these lights off so I can get up and…_

But her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door squeaking open. Tifa's first impulse was to ask who was there and demand that they let her go, but she decided to stay still. Maybe she could find out where she was by listening.

Soft footsteps sounded against the tile floor as whoever had entered drew closer to where Tifa lay. Then they stopped and the room became so silent that she could only hear the sound of her own heart beating in her ears.

She heard a shuffling as her visitor lowered himself into a chair that she assumed was at her bedside. Then everything was silent again. Whoever it was, she could feel their eyes watching her and she had to fight herself to maintain the steady breathing characteristic of someone asleep. Sure, she could have just sat up and announced that she was wide awake, but she had no idea where she was or who she was with. Perhaps being asleep was the better alternative to facing the predicament she was in; whatever it was.

The silence seemed to drag on forever as Tifa willed the other party to do something, **anything**, which would at least give a hint to where she was. But as she calmed herself, she realized that the silence in and of itself was a hint. Whoever this was, they didn't wish to wake her. And since they hadn't tried to cut her open with a butcher knife or shake her to consciousness, she deduced that this person probably wasn't a foe.

Now at ease that she wasn't in any immediate danger, Tifa found it less difficult to wait in silence. She lay completely still except for the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. She would've thought that her guest had left, if it weren't for the fact that she didn't hear the door reopen.

Then the silence was broken by her company letting out a sigh. She heard the chair groan as the visitor leaned forward. "You did not deserve this."

Tifa instantly recognized the deep baritone voice but remained still. Had he seen through her act?

Vincent paused and drew a slow breath. "This pain, this burden, it should not have been yours to bear." He gazed down at her resting form and let the hand that he was holding to his temple fall to his lap. "Now everything that you had was taken from you."

He looked down at his hand and curled it into a fist. "And I could do nothing to stop it from happening."

_Where is he going with this?_ Tifa wondered. _Does he truly not know that I'm awake?_

"Yet, even as everything you knew was destroyed, your first thoughts were on the well-fare of others."There was another short pause. "But then, you have always been that way."

He studied from her dormant form. She looked so frail wrapped up in bandages. He could hardly bear it. "Even when you suffered the greatest pain and heart-break, you kept your smile for everyone else. Your kindness; your compassion knows no limits, it seems; nor does your ability to look ahead with hope."

Vincent faltered in his words momentarily, and Tifa wondered at the fact that he was still speaking. Surely this was a dream. "Even in your darkest of days, you have remained strong and never given in to despair."

He shook his head despondently. "I, even after all my years, cannot say the same on any account." Vincent released a miserly chuckle. "And even after the nightmares of my past, even after facing my demons…I had never truly known fear until that moment…until…"

There was a long pause before Vincent could bring himself to finish. "I thought I had lost you. To watch the roof of that hell collapse and know that you were still inside…I have never been so frightened in my entire life." He clenched and unclenched his hands, desperate to fix her, to fix this whole problem, but knowing that there was nothing he could now.

"To think…to think that all of your hopes and dreams had been cut short…to think that I would never again be graced by your radiant smile…to think that I could never again hear your voice saying my name…it was…it was too much to bear."

Tifa listened to his words with disbelief. No, this couldn't be Vincent. He couldn't possibly be saying these things about her; **to** her. This couldn't be real. Her eyes burned as she tried to hold back the torrent that fought to be released.

Vincent closed his eyes and when he spoke next, it was in a near whisper. "I wish that you could know, Tifa. I wish that you could realize how much you truly mean to all of us…and I wish that I were brave enough to tell you this."

He grimaced contemptuously at himself. "But I have always been such a coward."

It was then when he opened his eyes and returned his gaze to her peaceful face that he saw a single glistening tear slide from the corner of her eye. His breath hitched in his throat as she slowly opened her eyes and turned her head to face him.

Tifa locked eyes with Vincent and then attempted to pull herself into the sitting position despite the fact that her head vehemently disagreed with the movement. But Vincent was up out of his seat in a flash and placed his hand on her shoulder.

He leaned over her and cradled her head in his right palm as she slowly allowed herself to be guided back to her pillow. The expression on his face was clearly one of worry for her well-being. But before he could pull away, Tifa reached out and lightly took hold of the back of his neck, pulling him toward her until their faces were mere centimeters apart.

Tifa smiled weakly and gently placed her forehead against his own. "Thank you," she whispered as she closed her eyes. "Thank you."

She felt Vincent's hand move from the back of her head to her neck, his thumb delicately stroking where her jaw line met her cheek. And then she felt his warm, soft lips brush against hers in the most tender of kisses.

"No," he whispered as he gently touched the tip of his nose to hers. "Thank you."His lips moved down to hers once more and lingered a bit longer this time before he pulled back abruptly as Cloud burst into the room.

"Vincent! Tifa! Shera and the kids have…they've been…um…" He looked from Vincent to Tifa then back again before he took a step back. Then, suddenly remembering what he had come for, he began again, but quieter this time. "Darknation ambushed Shera and the kids. They didn't even make it to Rocket Town. They killed the driver and took off with Shera and Marlene."

"What!?" Tifa shot up into the sitting position, ignoring the screaming pain between her temples. "What about Denzel? He isn't…"

"No," Cloud interrupted before she could finish. "He managed to escape. We found him at the crash site. Hey, wait a minute! You're injured!"

Tifa swung her legs out from under her blankets and shot him a look. "I don't care how much you protest, I'm not going to sit idly by while something like this happens! I don't care if I'm injured, I want to see Denzel!"

Vincent, who had been silent this entire time, moved next to Tifa and placed a protective hand on her shoulder. "Where is Denzel now, Strife?"

Cloud met Vincent's gaze with little expression on his face. "He's with Red, Barret, and Cid in the mess hall. He hadn't eaten since he left Tifa's."

"Very well," Vincent stated with a nod and then turned his eyes to Tifa. "Then we will join you there shortly."

Cloud seemed reluctant to leave, but then he nodded slowly and exited, closing the door halfway behind him.

Tifa looked up at Vincent and cocked her head to one side, trying to suppress the blush that threatened to spread across her face now that the two of them were alone together one again. "You're not going to try to convince me to stay here?"

Vincent arched an eyebrow at her. "No, I doubt that I could if I tried."

Tifa grinned at this and slipped off the bed to her feet. "Yeah, that's true."

-- O --

8


	19. Gone

A Grim History

Gone

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"I have an idea! Let's play I spy!"

"It's too dark out to play I spy, Marlene," Denzel stated disjointedly. "Besides, that's a stupid game anyway."

Marlene stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and crossed her thin arms around her favorite stuffed tiger. "You're mean, Denzel. You'll play, right Aunt Shera?"

Shera, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, looked back at the girl and mustered up the most care-free smile that she could in spite of the weighty situation."Okay, Marlene. That might be fun."

She smiled triumphantly in Denzel's direction which earned an eye roll from the boy. "Will you play too, Mr. Evans, sir?"

Evans reached up with a tattooed hand and scratched the back of his head. "Eh…sure, I guess."

"Okay," Marlene chirped, "I'll go first! I spy something red!"

Denzel turned away from the others, ignoring their game, and stared out his window. The rain that was pounding down from the heavens made a hollow taping sound on the roof of the car that was hardly a comfort. The road outside was concealed by a thick sheet of silver rain and there was not a light in sight aside from the headlights of their vehicle and the glowing symbols on the dashboard that cast a reflection in his window. _I wonder what the others are doing right now_, he thought distractedly.

His musings were interrupted, however, by a low grumbling sound erupting from his stomach.

Marlene giggled next to him. "Are you hungry, Denzel?" She then leaned over and poked him in the side.

Denzel blushed slightly and batted her hand away. "A little, hey Shera, how long 'til we get there?"

Shera sighed and leaned back in her chair. "A few hours yet, but don't worry, I'll get you something to eat when we get to town." She glanced over at Evans, who was staring intently at the road in the headlights.

Did this man **ever** smile? Of all the men that worked for Cid, Evans was the most no nonsense. He was a gruff man who had been hardened by years of fighting, physical labor, and painful loss. But even though he was lacking in social graces, he made up for it with his dedication and hard work. It was no wonder to Shera that Cid trusted him with the job of transporting them to Rocket Town.

She then caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head to see Evans glancing up to the rear view mirror with a grimace.

"What is it, Evans?" she asked quietly enough that the kids couldn't hear over their own conversation. The man met her eyes for a moment and then turned back to face forward. "Nothin', ma'am, Jus' have a car coming up behind us is all. They're going pretty fast for this weather I would think."

Shera blinked and then looked into the mirror outside her door and sure enough, she could see two dim, blinking headlights a ways behind them. "That's not going to be a problem, is it?" she queried a bit worriedly.

Evans' frown deepened. "The only people who use this road are usually one's who are up to no good. That's why they don' wanta be seen."

Shera wrung her hands in her lap as she listened to Marlene giggle at something Denzel said to her. "Perhaps we should let them pass then." Evans nodded and eased off the accelerator so that the fast approaching car would bypass them.

The vehicle soon came up close behind them, its headlights flooding the backseat with light and then switched lanes without a signal. It sped past them but remained in the opposite lane as it continued onward. Evans' brow furrowed. "What the hell you doin' pardner?" he mumbled quietly.

Suddenly, the car swung sideways into the lane in front of them a mere fifty yards ahead, its passenger side door directly in their path. Shera gasped as Evans let loose a loud epithet and slammed his heal into the brake. The wet road didn't offer ideal traction for an immediate stop, and the vehicle began to skid as Evan cranked the wheel to gain back control. But it was in vain. Hitting a rut in the shoulder, the car lurched to the side and then steered strait off the road. The vehicle bounced over the brush in the ditch, into the dark canopy of trees, and straight into a large oak.

The front seat airbags punched out at impact and Shera felt the back of her seat shake as Denzel's face smacked into it. For a moment, everything was silent except the beating of rain on the world outside and the groaning of their injured car. But it didn't take long before Marlene recovered from her shock and began to sob in the back seat.

Shera groaned as she pushed the white, canvas abomination away from her face and struggled to turn around in her seat; an action that was hindered both by the state of the car and the size of her abdomen. "Is everyone alright?" she managed to gasp despite how shaken up she was.

Denzel leaned forward and cradled his throbbing head in his hands. He grunted in answer and Marlene just continued to sob. "Aunt Shera, I thought we were going to die!"

"It's okay, honey," Shera consoled the child as she tried to reach back to comfort the girl. "Shh…it'll be alright."

Evans however, was in no mood for whining. "Damn it! What was that all about!?" Yanking off his seatbelt, he thrust his door open and clambered out into the rain. Denzel sat up and managed to calm the ringing in his ears. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Shera replied earnestly. "Oh, but wait." In the rear view mirror she spotted headlights coming their way. "I think whoever it was that we nearly hit has stopped to help." She unbuckled herself and opened her door slightly. "Kids, you stay in the car, okay?" With that, she stepped out into the rain.

"Oi! Over here!" Evans waved at the approaching vehicle and scowled as they slowed to a stop a few meters away. He approached with his bulky arms crossed as the passenger door swung open. "You mind explainin' what the hell just happened!?"

The man that stepped out of the vehicle didn't reply. He simply flipped open the long black cloak he was wearing and produced a shiny, metal handgun. Evans didn't have time to get another word out before a shot rang out. He looked down at his stomach to see a quickly expanding red stain and then dropped to his knees. Marlene screamed from inside the car and the man's eyes locked onto Shera. He began to approach them resolutely as three more men climbed from the car his weapon now pointed at her.

Shera stepped forward slightly and raised her hands above her head. She'd have to distract these men so the children could escape. She met eyes with Denzel, who was hunched down in the back seat. Her mouth formed a silent word; _run_.

Denzel nodded and reached back to grab Marlene's hand. She whimpered as he tugged her towards him but he placed his hand over her mouth. "Marlene, on the count of three, we're going to run for it, okay?" Marlene nodded slowly, a tear sliding down her pale cheek and over his knuckles. Denzel relinquished his hold on her face, and cracked his door open. Both he and Marlene slid out of the open door to the soggy ground and crouched, hidden behind the car. "Okay, 1…2…3!"

In an instant both Denzel and Marlene shot off away from the wreck, and two of the black cloaked men began to pursue them. Shera leapt into their path and used her body weight to shove one of them off his feet. She then turned to flee herself only to be met by a rifle butt to the face. Everything went red, and then her body crumpled to the soaked forest floor.

-- O --

Denzel and Marlene darted through the pitch black woods trying desperately to lose their pursuer, but it was hopeless and Denzel knew it. Marlene could never outrun this full-grown man who was quickly gaining on them. He knew that their only chance of escape was to split up and hide in the dark brush.

Gripping Marlene's trembling hand, he yanked her off to the right and plunged them both into a tall, thick bramble of thorn bushes. The thorns bit at their exposed skin and ripped their sopping clothing as the climbed farther into the middle of the bramble. Once they were far enough in that Denzel was sure they would be safe for a few moments, he turned to Marlene.

"Marlene, we have to split up. I'll draw them away from here, and once they're gone, you run for it," he whispered urgently.

"B-but what about Aunt Shera?" Marlene whimpered as she shied away from a particularly sharp thorn near her elbow.

Denzel was about the answer, when he heard shouting from only a few yards away and cracking as the men began to break their own way through the bramble. "I have to go now. Marlene!" With that, he stood from his spot and made a big show of running away from the branches that hid Marlene. Once he was sure they had both seen them, he spun on his heel, and dashed off into the night with the two men following behind.

-- O --

Marlene waited just as Denzel had told her to. She hugged her knees to herself and barely dared to breathe as she listened for any noise that might betray another foe's presence. Positive that Denzel's plan had indeed worked, she slowly crawled from her hazardous hiding spot out into the more open woods. Glancing left to right; she saw no one and then scampered in the opposite direction that Denzel had gone.

Sidling up to a large tree, she tried to catch her breath and inspected the new cuts that now adorned her arms. She blinked back a terror filled tear and sniffed. Why was this happening? Where should she go now? What should she do? She had no idea where she was or where Denzel had gone. But he had told her to run, she remembered that. Gathering up what little courage she had left, Marlene stood up straight and then began racing her way between the trees.

-- O --

Branches from low trees whipped at Denzel's face and arms as he surged through the woods in flight from the men behind him. So far he had been able to keep a steady distance between them, but he didn't know how long that could last. Fatigue was slowly creeping up on him.

Then the ground suddenly came to a halt before him and dropped straight down to a river. The deluge roiled past him at an alarming speed but without a moment's thought, he leapt from the edge and plunged into the black water that immediately rushed him away from his adversaries. Although he was struggling to keep his head above the water, Denzel afforded himself a triumphant smirk. Now he would lose them for sure.

-- O --

It was impossible to know if this was the same tree she had just seen or if it was a different one in the rain that was pouring down. Marlene looked around herself frantically but all she could see in every direction was darkness. A sob escaped her as she took a non-directional step and closed her arms around herself in an attempt to warm her shivering body.

_Snap_. A twig broke. Someone was there. Marlene spun to face the direction she thought the sound had come from but saw nothing. Pausing to listen for any other sound, she could hear nothing else besides the beating of the rain upon the earth. Terror ate at her nerves as she remained frozen to that same spot.

Then, suddenly, something rough and thick descended over Marlene's head. Her screams were muffled as her attacker picked her small body up and threw her over their shoulder. She beat at their back with her small fists and tried to kick at him, but it was no use. There was no escaping this time. She screamed again.

-- O --

Denzel pulled himself from the frigid water to the riverbank and crawled underneath a fallen tree. He had managed to survive the river's current as it boiled around him and the undercurrent attempted to suck him beneath. He was now positive that he had lost the men who had been chasing him. Now what? He had no idea where Marlene was and no idea how to get home. Still, his plan had worked. They had both escaped and-

A scream sounded in the woods not far from his safe haven. _Oh no, Marlene!_ Denzel lurched from his hiding place and began to frantically ascend the river bank. More screams! Gunshots! Though his muscles ached and his limbs threatened to give out, he forced his body onward toward the screams. He had to save Marlene!

Following the sounds, Denzel found himself back at the scene of the crash but by the time he reached the clearing, the black car that had brought the men there was nowhere in sight. He had to get help! Denzel began racing in the direction he thought the road was in, but after he had gone about fifty yards and still hadn't found the road, he knew he was lost. Still not willing to give up, Denzel ran back towards where he had started only to catch his foot underneath a root and tumble to the soggy ground face first. His ankle throbbing in pain, he let out an exasperated cry. Shera and Marlene were gone and now there was nothing he could do to save them.

-- O --

Now finished with the retelling of his story, Denzel leaned forward and took a much needed sip of his hot chocolate. The rest of the group seated around the table took a few moments to mull this new information over in their heads.

Tifa, however, now felt her eyes fill with tears, and she rose from her seat and knelt next to Denzel. Looking into his glassy eyes she saw that he was not only exhausted, he was feeling guilty. Promptly, she enfolded him in a protectively tight embrace. At first, the boy seemed to resist her, but then after a few moments, he buried his face into her warm chest and wrapped his arms around her. Tifa could feel his body shuddering as he struggled to keep his sobs silent.

Barret, who had been sitting next to the boy, placed a large hand gently on his back. "Denzel…"

Denzel pulled away from Tifa, his eyes red and puffy and looked down into his lap. "Denzel," Barret repeated softly. The boy slowly looked up and met his father's eyes.

"You were very brave, son. You did everything you could."

"That's right," Red replied. "No one here blames you for what happened." Denzel looked at the floor again, but nodded; grateful for their understanding though he still felt responsible.

"Excuse me." Eleven pairs of eyes looked up to see a young woman in white hospital garb standing with her hands clasp together. "I don't mean to intrude, but I'm here to take care of the injured boy."

All eyes turned back to Denzel who sighed and stood with a little difficulty as he favored his throbbing ankle. "My name's Denzel," he said flatly.

"Of course," the girl nodded. "Well, Denzel, we're going to take care of your ankle." She approached him and lifted his arm over her shoulder to help him walk. "I heard that you had quite the adventure…" she said cheerily as they exited the room through the near door.

After the door swung shut, Dean, the man who had been their driver from earlier, addressed the group. "That cinches it. There's not a doubt in my mind the guys who attacked them were with Darknation."

Cid was twice as irritable due to his lack of smokes. He grimaced deeply. "Then where you suppose they took 'em?"

"We have no way of knowing," Emily answered with resentment in her voice. "The council hasn't allowed us to send out a search party to find their hide out."

Red bristled and his voice was strained as he spoke. "Well, perhaps in light of recent events, the council would reconsider."

"Yeah!" Yuffie piped up. "I mean, we don't know what those guys will do to Shera and Marlene!" She turned to Aiden, who was fidgeting in his chair uncomfortably. "Isn't there anything you guys can tell us?"

Aiden shook his head and Emily sighed. "Unfortunately, the council members are the only ones who really know anything about the way Darknation works and why they do what they do." She clenched a fist on the table. "But I can assure you that whatever they have planned, it's not good."

Tifa glanced round at all the faces in the room and then rested her gaze on the table in front of her. "Well, I don't know much about anything that's going on within Darknation," she began firmly, "and I don't know anything about the way your council works." She looked up and locked eyes with Emily. "But I do know that I don't let my friends get captured without a fight."

Vincent, who was seated next to her, nodded stiffly in response. "None of us do."

Emily took in his dark gaze and pushed her chair from the table. "Very well, then Dean and I will go tell the council so. Surely they will no longer be able to justify inaction." Dean stood as well. Together, the two of them pushed in their chairs and then exited.

Aiden, who hadn't spoken a single word since they had found Denzel, stretched and then smiled weakly. "Well, alrighty then. In the meantime, why don't I get you guys some rooms so that you can rest and get cleaned up and stuff?"

"Ooh, that sounds amazing," Yuffie admitted with a yawn. "I am so exhausted it's not funny."

"Well, as great as that sounds," Cid muttered, "I think I'd rather have a drink and a smoke first. You got any of that?" Aiden laughed and Yuffie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Actually, we've got a bar down here. I'll show you once I get you guys some rooms."

Cid seemed satisfied and turned to Barret who admitted that a drink sounded pretty good right about then.

"Okay then," Aiden said as he stood. "Let's get going."

The whole remaining group rose from their seats with the echoing screech of sliding chairs and shuffling of boots on the floor. They began to file out of the cafeteria following Aiden. He led them down a series of white painted halls.

Tifa trailed behind them detachedly. She still didn't know what to think of all that had happened. Everything was getting so complicated and she couldn't help but wonder what Darknation would have to gain by capturing Shera and Marlene.

Her brain was tired of thinking, so she gave up on her wanderings and looked up to see Cloud walking a little in front of her. He glanced over his shoulder at her with his eyebrows drawn together in a frown and then quickly turned back to face forward. _I wonder what that's all about_, Tifa thought to herself.

A moment later, they reached a row of doors and Aiden stopped and pointed out three in particular. "You'll have to double up, but here's where your rooms are." He then cast a thumb over his shoulder. "Over there's where you can shower and stuff. I'll see if I can't get you guys some clean clothes or something. Towels are in your rooms."

They all thanked him before he set off to his task, with the exception of Vincent and Cloud who seemed to be having a silent conversation only a few feet away. Sensing the tension between the two of them, Tifa walked up and tapped Vincent on the shoulder. "Um…hey, Vince? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Vincent nodded and sent one last glare Cloud's way before following her down the hall a ways.

"So…what's up with Cloud?" Tifa inquired in a near whisper even though Cloud had already left to follow Aiden and the others had gone as well. "I mean, if looks could kill…"

"It is of little importance, Tifa," he responded abruptly. "Do not worry yourself over it." And with that, the subject seemed to be closed.

"Um, okay," Tifa replied slowly. "Then I guess I'll just go get some rest."

"That is a wise decision. After all, you are wounded." Vincent reached up and tucked a stray strand of Tifa's chestnut hair behind her ear, his crimson eyes burning into her own. Tifa felt her stomach flip-flop and averted her gaze lest she do or say something she would later regret. A warm blush graced her features as she nervously played with her fingernails. He was so close…so very close. She could feel the heat radiating off of him and felt her blush spread.

"Yes…well, then I suppose I'd better go get cleaned up." She backed away and started toward the room Yuffie had already gone into. Her hand on the doorknob, she glanced over her shoulder to see that Vincent was watching her with amusement in his eyes. In an instant she disappeared into her room. _How dare he take pleasure in my discomfort!_

Once inside she nearly ran into Yuffie who was holding a white, fluffy-looking towel. "Oh, sorry, Tif…hey, you alright? You look really red."

Tifa passed the younger girl and made her way to the unoccupied bed. "It's nothing; it's just a little warm in here, is all."

Yuffie wasn't convinced. "Yeah, whatever, I'm going over to take a shower, okay?"

Tifa nodded but didn't turn to face her as she busied herself with unfolding her own towel lest her expression make Yuffie even more suspicious. She was grateful when she heard the door close with a loud click.

With a sigh, Tifa fell back onto her bed and felt the down comforter poof out around her. "Darn you, Valentine," she thought aloud as she draped an arm over her eyes. "Darn you for being so…so…" _Mysterious? Dark? Handsome? _"…so yourself." 

Tifa rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. She was a full grown woman for Pete's sake! Getting all giddy over something like this was hardly adult. Of course, then again, Tifa may have thought of herself as full grown, but she never had really considered herself an adult. She had just never really thought about it.

Eager to change the subject of her mind's wanderings, she thought of the bandage wrapped round her head. Someone had hit her with a spindle from the staircase, she was sure of it…but who? Surely if it had been a member of Darknation that had started the fire, they would have immediately fled the scene. After all, to stay inside the burning building would have been immensely stupid.

Unless…unless the reason they were there was specifically to attack Tifa. But why? It's not as if…

Then a realization hit Tifa like a ton of bricks. The Talisman! She had just recovered it when that person attacked her! Leaping from her bed, she raced out into the hallway and into the women's bathroom across the hall.

"Yuffie! Yuffie, are you in here!"

"Yeah," she heard a voice answer from the back of the room. She followed the voice back to a row of showers, the furthest one with its curtain closed."Yuffie, when you and Emily rescued me, did you find the Talisman!?"

Yuffie poked her head out from behind the light pink curtain, her eyes wide. "What?"

"The Talisman," Tifa repeated impatiently. "Did you find it?"

"Um…no, Tifa…we didn't…"

Tifa groaned as she fell back against the white tile wall and slid to the ground. "This is bad. This is really bad."

Yuffie gaped at Tifa in a stupor, bubbles from her fruity shampoo slowly migrating down her nose. "Oh, Tifa…" But she stopped before she finished her sentence and abruptly disappeared behind the shower curtain. There was a loud squeak as turned the faucet knobs to the off position. She then stepped out of the stall with her towel draped around her thin form.

Tifa couldn't make eye contact with the girl. She pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her face behind them. She felt like screaming and crying at the same time. How could she be so careless!

Yuffie sank to the tile floor beside Tifa and wiped a dripping strand of hair from her face. "What happened?"

"I don't believe this," Tifa whimpered, her lips trembling in frustration. "I had the talisman with me when I went into the building to find Keaton. It was in my hand but that was before it someone whacked me in the head with a staircase spindle!"She clenched her hands into fists and bit her lip. "This is all my fault! If I had just been more careful…the others will be so-"

She was suddenly startled by Yuffie's hand on her shoulder. "Wait, so someone hit you? We thought you tripped or something."

"No," Tifa replied as she briefly met Yuffie's questioning gaze. "I know someone hit me."

"Well, who was it? What did he look like?"

"I didn't get a good look at him…or her. It was all so sudden."

Yuffie lifted her hand from Tifa's shoulder and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "This reeks of a trap, Tifa. So as far as I'm concerned it's really not your fault."

"But I was responsible for-"

Yuffie stood abruptly and glared down at Tifa, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. "That doesn't matter now." A serious look set upon the young ninja's face. "You've been through a lot, Tifa. You've been through more than any of us and I won't let you sit there and be all broody on me, got it? That's Vincent's job." Her harsh expression softened and she knelt down to take Tifa's hands in her own. "It just doesn't suit you, Tif."

Tifa squeezed Yuffie's warm hands in her own. "I guess not." The girl helped her up from her spot on the floor. "But what will I tell the others? I doubt the members of the Resistance will be near as forgiving as you."

"Not to worry," Yuffie replied with a smile and a flick of her hand. "I'll break the news to them. I'm probably a lot less susceptible to their glares than you are, anyway."

"You don't have to do that…" Yuffie shook her head at Tifa's remark.

"I know. But I want to."

Tears welled up in Tifa's eyes. She really had been through a lot, but she had good friends like Yuffie who would stand beside her. She stepped forward and pulled the younger girl into an embrace. "I'm so lucky to have a friend like you."

Yuffie beamed as Tifa pulled away. "Yeah, you are." Then she made a face and glanced down at Tifa's ash smeared clothing and skin. "No offense, Tif, but you really need a shower, like, now."

Tifa rubbed the back of her neck and looked down at herself with a grimace. "None taken."

-- O --

10


	20. Cathartic Carvings

A Grim History

Cathartic Carvings

By: Illusion of the Mirror

He tried his left side. He tried his right. He covered every source of light in the room, lest it distract him from slumber. He flipped the sheets off his bed and even laid sideways in an attempt to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep. Cloud had been roused by a dream…a dream which now made it impossible to find respite.

Soldier…meteor…and the Ancient that he would never be able to put to rest. No matter how many times he swore he could forgive himself for failing, no matter how many times he promised the others that he could be there for them, he would always fall back into this; this melancholy. Always.

_Why does it have to be this way? Why do __**I **__have to be this way? I can't forget these emotions or my inadequacies. I never will be able to…and it's killing me. I'm dying a little bit more every day._

The silence of the early morning darkness was rudely interrupted by the air-conditioning whirring to life. The cool air that poured from the vent above his bed brought the scent of all things familiar. It was of the life that he lived day after day; the life that ever drowned him in memories. He could never escape here, not with these faces that represented the past and constantly reminded him of it.

_Every smile, every phone call, every empty shot glass; they're all so harmless on the surface. But this life, these faces, they're what's keeping me this way. I can never move on…not unless I-_

_No. I can't. I can't think this way._

Pushing himself up from the bed, Cloud placed his bare feet on the cold wooden floor. He glanced abashedly to the still-made twin bed across the room. _I can't go on this way. I can't live a lie and I can't be someone I'm not. And I'm not someone worthy of this family._

Cloud crossed the room and ran his fingers along the hand-made quilt adorning Tifa's bed. He thought of her falling sleeping on the couch in the extra room, watching over the two children who practically begged her to sing them to sleep. Silently, he traversed the small steps to the hallway and cracked the door to the room adjacent to his own.

Soft snores drifted from Denzel's bed in the corner, but he immediately noticed that the couch, though sufficiently mussed, was unoccupied. Stepping into the space and closing the door halfway behind him, he crossed the room to Marlene's bed to find the scene he so often found in the morning. The young girl clung tightly to Tifa as their chests rose and fell in near unison. The sleep-saturated smiles on their faces told of sweet dreams and the hole in Cloud's heart widened exponentially.

_These beds hold a family; a family that doesn't deserve someone like me. They deserve someone who wants to be here with them, not only when they're asleep, but also when they're awake. The children deserve a role model that can be with them body, mind, and spirit. And Tifa…_

_Tifa deserves someone who not only sees her for the beautiful young woman that she is, but also puts her first. Someone that isn't broken beyond repair. Someone that isn't like…me._

Cloud ran a hand gently down Tifa's exposed cheek. She hummed softly in her sleep and a rueful smile broke his lips. He knew what had to be done.

It wasn't until later that morning that Tifa found the note and discovered Fenrir missing from the garage out back. She did not shed a tear.

-- O --

Large, cold raindrops fell to the earth in a silver barrage, their bodies splashing into puddles of their brethren on the pavement below. The silky sheen of the water blotted out the sky, the trees, and the river that curved along with the earth. Nary an animal braved the downpour; foxes cuddled inside their dens and birds hid safely in their nests. But this was no torrent. The peaceful beating of the drops on the earth was, if anything, melodic.

Beyond the rainfall, another sound wormed out. The roar of a motor bike faded in and out through the trees as it wound with the road beneath its wheels. Protruding leaves from low-lying brush trembled as the vehicle sped past but settled quickly back into their former state of respite.

Eyes forward and watching the asphalt through the fog of rain, Cloud raced forward with no destination in mind. He dared the road to take him. Just **dared** it. The drops made hollow _tup tup_ sounds on the leather of his jacket. A million gray needles stabbed his face and bare wrists. Thoughts of a smiling Flower girl poked at his mind. He sped up to silence them.

Lean left. Lean right. The increasing speed brought more pain, but it was good. He needed the speed. He needed the pain. He needed to ride; to run.

"_You need to stop running, Cloud."_ He sped up again. He would've glanced at the speedometer. He would've. But he needed to see the road. He needed to feel it. To **be** it. No…that doesn't make sense…he needed to use it. That's right, he needed to concentrate on it and nothing else.

_Denzel…he'll miss me. Marlene might too. But they're better now. Or they will be._

He revved the gas again. _No, concentrate. Concentrate!_

Rain was working its way down his jacket collar and into his boots. It didn't matter. He wasn't sure how he'd left the main road. That didn't matter either. He was here. He was fast. He was alone, and that's how it should be. He wasn't sure when he'd started screaming into the wind, but he stopped. His throat hurt. His face hurt. His wrists hurt. Glorious pain that took the memories away.

He closed his eyes. He felt the sharp bullets of water on his face. _Yeah._ He revved the engine again. Fenrir rumbled beneath him. _Yeah._ He bit his lip. He gripped the handle bars tighter. _Yeah._

Sand in the road makes for a biker's nightmare, but for Cloud, it was more like a fantastic dream. He'd dared the road…now it was coming through. Fenrir slid, laid the bike down, and spun with it into a road sign.

_It hurts._ Cloud opened his eyes to stare straight up into the gray heavens. _I hurt._ Barely able to see, he noted the irony of the road sign that cut into his right leg; road slippery when wet. _It hurts._ He closed his eyes. _But I deserve this._

-- O -- 

The violins that fiddled in the petite red-head's ears drove her onward through the early morning mist. The wheels of her new green bike spun flawlessly as she hummed her way down her normal route. Dew dripped from the leaves over-head and splashed on her bare arms and knees.

It was a good thing she remembered her mp3 player this time. It gave her a defined pace. Maybe this time she wouldn't be late for work at the shop. Glancing up, she took a moment to survey the world around her. The forest was wet with rain, but she knew the birds were out and about, even if their songs were masked by the classical music from her ear buds.

But what was that? Slowly arriving at a stop, the girl halted to survey a trail of scratches that scarred the road. _Glass? _Dismounting, she wheeled forward and followed the trail with her eyes until they settled on a mass on the shoulder. _A bear? No, too big._ She plucked the mini symphony from her ears. The mist clouded her view, but as she squinted through the early sun's reflected light, she realized what was before her.

_Oh Lord!_ Letting her bike crash to the pavement, the petite young woman raced forward. It was a wreck! Someone might be hurt! _Oh no… oh no…oh no…oh no…_

She could see the massive motor-bike. She could smell the oil. And the closer she got, she could make out blood; lots of it. Her gag reflex threatened to present her with a gift, but she choked it back down and rounded the front of the wreck.

A man. There was a man! She knelt to inspect him. _Please don't be dead! _She laid a hand lightly on the pulse point in his neck. _Alive! He's alive!_

"Sir," she said even though she was pretty sure he couldn't hear her. "Hang in there, I'll get some help." The girl reached into her pocket and produced a small green cell phone. Punching a speed dial number, she glanced down at the man. His breathing was labored. He needed help fast!

"Hello?"

"Mom! It's Emily! I need you to come quick!"

"Gracious," a voice on the other line gasped. "You sound like you were in a wreck!"

"No…I wasn't…but someone else was. Mom, I need you to bring your first aid kit and get here as fast as you can. I'm on my river route."

"We'll be there in two shakes of a lamb's tail, Sweety."

"Oh, and Mom? Bring the van, not the car."

"Mercy…"

Clicking the phone shut, Emily knelt down next to the man once again. She ran her hand through his blonde, dirt and blood-stained hair. "Don't worry, mister. You're going to make it." She peered down at the road sign that was wrapped around the motor-bike. "Just hang on."

-- O --

Waking up was something that Cloud instantly regretted. The pain that seared through his every limb was mind-numbing. He groaned but the sound came out as more of a gasp. A figure rose and moved into his peripheral.

"Sir? Are you awake?"

His tongue was swollen, but he was able to form words with minimal effort…although the pain was anything but minimal. "Is this hell? 'Cause it hurts like hell."

The figure giggled and lightly placed a hand on his forehead. "No, it's not."

Putting all his effort into focusing his eyes, Cloud turned his head as much as his body would allow. As his vision cleared, he was sure that the young woman that stood before him was Aeris. "Is…is this heaven?"

The girl brushed his hair away from his face. "No, I'm afraid that's not where you are either."

Slowly, her face came into focus. No, it wasn't Aeris, but she looked very much like her. Her hair was redder and shorter…and her eyes were darker green. She smiled kindly at him, exhaustion evident on her face.

"You gave us quite the scare. We thought you were a goner."

Cloud tried to quiet the pain ringing in his head. "We?"

"My family and I. I found you beside the road. You lost a lot of blood…" She trailed off and surveyed his bandaged form. "I'm so glad you're alive."

Cloud stared into the girls eyes. She looked so…so kind. His gaze faltered and he averted his eyes. "Why? You don't know me."

The girl raised an eyebrow briefly. "What's your name?"

"Cloud," he mumbled.

"Well, Cloud, now I know you."

Cloud looked back up at the girl's smiling eyes. She continued to stroke his hair from his face. "But…"

"I'm Emily," the girl said matter-of-factly. "Emily Bordeaux. I'm pleased to meet your acquaintance Mr. Cloud."

"Strife."

"Pardon?"

"It's Strife. Cloud Strife."

Emily's smile split her entire face and Cloud could swear she was glowing. "Cloud Strife. It fits you."

The thing about smiles is that sometimes they're contagious. This was one such smile, and Cloud found himself bearing the pain that it caused his face.

"Oh!" Emily exclaimed as she spun around and reached for something on the end table behind her. "Here, my mother said to give this to you if you woke up." She produced a large glass of ice water and three small, brown pills. Cloud just stared at the medicine.

She held her hand out farther. "They'll help with the pain. And you lost a lot of blood, so you'll need the water to rehydrate."

Hesitantly, Cloud reached out and took the objects from her, wincing in pain. He took a sip and dropped the pills into his mouth. They drug along the back of his tongue leaving a gritty residue. He took another sip and then glanced down into the glass.

"The ice isn't melted. How long were you waiting?"

Emily smiled and pulled at the hem of her brown blouse. "Well, I've been here all day…I just kept refilling it so it'd be cold when you woke up."

Cloud looked up from the glass with astonishment. He was about to reply when a short, blonde woman in white burst through the door. "Oh my, Emmy, you should have told me he was awake!"

"Sorry, Mom. I was just-"

Mrs. Bordeaux immediately addressed Cloud. "Good, you've taken the pills. They should help numb the pain a bit. We bandaged you up, but I knew you would be in a fair amount of pain since you took such a beating. How are you feeling?"

The whirlwind of speech caught Cloud of guard. "Um…like I was in a wreck."

The woman slapped her forehead. "Oh, yes of course, what was I thinking?"

Emily stepped forward and placed a hand on her mother's shoulder. "Mom's a retired nurse, so she patched you right up."

"Yes," the older woman chimed in. "But it will still take a while for you to fully heal, I'm afraid."

Cloud strained to push himself upright. Once in the sitting position, he looked down at his bandaged legs. "I don't know how to thank you."

She smiled. "You just did." Looking down at her watch, Mrs. Bordeaux gasped. "My goodness, is it that late already? Well, I'll be. Emily, dear, would you go get some dinner for our guest?"

Emily nodded, and with a smile in Cloud's direction, she left the room.

"By the way, dear," the remaining woman said. "My name is Lissette Bordeaux. My husband James and I rushed right out when Emily called us."

Cloud merely picked at a bandage on his arm. Lissette, sensing his discomfort, took a step back. "Not only was your skin scarred up from the road, but your legs are badly bruised and the one has a deep cut from that road sign that was wrapped around your motorcycle." She paused and raised an eyebrow. "How that happened is still a mystery to us."

"I…hit a patch of sand and laid the bike down."

"Oh dear. That explains the condition of the motor-bike."

Cloud instantly looked up. "Condition?"

"Let's just say you should get a decent price for the scrap metal." A tall man with dark, graying hair and a strong jaw-line entered the room and joined Lissette at the bedside. "I see you're awake. Good, Emily hasn't left your side all day."

Lissette turned to the man. "This is my husband, James."

"Pleasure to meet you," the tall man replied. "And your name is?"

"His name's Cloud, Daddy. Cloud Strife." Emily reentered the room carrying a tray holding a bowl of steaming soup. The smell was heavenly, and Cloud realized he was hungry; **very** hungry.

A blonde girl about ten or eleven years old came through the door behind Emily. "Cloud," she said. "That's a funny name."

"Luna!" Lissette chastised. "Don't be rude!"

Cloud smiled. "It's alright. It is kind of funny."

Luna pushed past her parents and leaned on the bedside. "You sure are lucky Emily found you. If she hadn't you'd be…" Luna leaned her head to the side, crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Lissette flicked her ear. "Ow!"

Cloud glanced at Emily, who still held the tray of evermore tantalizing cuisine. "Yeah…I guess I am."

"So where are you from?"

"Okay, Luna. That's enough," James interrupted. "The man only just woke up. He's probably hungry."

Luna frowned. "Oh…alright. Bye, Cloud Strife." She waved as her mother ushered her from the room. Cloud half-smiled at the use of his full name.

Emily stepped forward and set the tray gently down on Cloud's lap. "It's only chicken dumpling soup, but I thought you might like it. Mother always makes it just right."

"Thank you," Cloud said softly. "I don't know why I'm so hungry…how long was I out?"

James gripped Emily's shoulder. "Around 48 hours, so we'll leave you to your dinner. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. There's a baby monitor on the mantle there." Cloud nodded in answer.

As the two of them turned to go, James paused and looked over his shoulder. "You're welcome to stay until you're healed. We have plenty of room."

Cloud nodded again and Emily and her father left him alone. It was kind of them, but he had no intention of staying. He'd leave as soon as he was able.

-- O --

Nobody expected it would take so long for Cloud's injuries to heal, but his condition only seemed to get worse. The places where the gravel from the road cut into his flesh oozed blood and puss every time Emily or her mother came in to change his bandages. Despite their efforts, the wounds became infected and Cloud struggled to simply sit up in bed.

But despite the fact that Cloud felt like he was intruding on this kind family's life, he never once felt resented or unwanted. On the contrary, they treated him almost as if he was an honored guest, something that Cloud couldn't understand. They didn't know him. They didn't even ask about him. And yet…they cared. It perplexed him to no end.

It took a few weeks before Cloud's condition took a turn for the better and he could begin doing mundane care-taking by himself. However, that wasn't the end of daily visits from the Bordeauxs. Lissette would come in every morning and every night to inspect his bodily state and bring him home cooked meals. At first, his pain outweighed his hunger and his meals were left relatively untouched, but as he healed, Cloud discovered that Lissette Bordeaux was a superb chef.

Luna would come in daily too. She seemed to instantly take a liking to Cloud and told him that she, "had always wanted an older brother!" She even commented that she thought it was "cool" that every day he could pick more gravel out of his skin. Cloud didn't think that was so cool.

Sometimes, she would read to him, and sometimes she would prattle on about her day until one of her parents chased her from the room. Cloud didn't mind her antics, but he humored her parents.

One day, Luna even brought some of her little friends in to show off "the motorcycle man" almost like a proud curator at a museum. The two younger boys that came into the room behind her looked about in wonder from his many bandages to his spiky blonde hair and un-shaven face.

"Wow, mister," the taller, lanky boy said with his wide eyes peering through his huge glasses. "You look awful."

Cloud suppressed a laugh. Of course he did. He knew that, but to hear this child with messy, light brown hair, dirt and grass stained clothes, and that was missing his two front teeth say so, it was kind of…funny.

"Cloud Strife, these are my friends Mason and Benji," Luna stated a little too loudly.

Benji, a short and pudgy boy with freckles bridging his nose, blinked his saucer-blue eyes. But as the other two jabbered on about this and that, Benji just looked down and clutched something to his chest protectively. Curious, Cloud asked, "What have you got there?"

The other two went silent and Benji stared wide-eyed at Cloud. He slowly held out his hands to reveal a threadbare stuffed cow that sported a mask and cape made out of scrap quilting material.

"Wow," Cloud said with a smile and a nod. "That's pretty cool. I like the flower print. What's his name?"

Benji beamed. "My mommy made him! This is **Super Cow**!"

After the children were called out of the room by an apologetic Lissette, Cloud mused at how he had become an exhibit for small children. He couldn't help but laugh…until he recalled the two children he had left behind. _Denzel…I'm sorry._

-- O --

As Cloud slowly regained his strength and was able to move about with relative ease, he started being incorporated into activities around the house. Whether he was washing dishes with Lissette or Emily, playing gin rummy with Luna and her little friends, or sitting at a place of honor at the family dinner table, the family seemed to count Cloud as one of their own, rather than the intruder that he was.

James was the most hesitant to trust Cloud, but as time wore on, he warmed up to him. James even invited his kid brother over to have a look at Cloud's bike, claiming that even though Cloud said he didn't have to, he wanted to. "A bike so beautiful shouldn't be left as scrap metal."

But the member of the family that Cloud found himself growing fonder of each day was Emily. He looked forward to their daily conversations about life and people, even though she did most of the talking and he the listening.

When she finally did ask him about his family one day, he found himself willing to give her an answer. And as he told her fondly of Denzel, Marlene, and Tifa, Emily's smile grew wider. "They sound like wonderful people."

"Yeah," Cloud sighed. "That's why I had to leave."

Emily cocked her head to one side. "Had to?"

Cloud shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I didn't deserve that life." He paused and picked at his still-bandaged arm. "Much like I don't deserve this one."

Emily was silent a moment, and then pulled her wooden kitchen chair forward. She looked into Cloud's eyes, but didn't show a single sign of exasperation. "You're right, you don't."

Cloud frowned and opened his mouth to reply, but Emily held up a finger. "I don't either. None of us do. If you concentrate on all the horrible things all of us have done, then no one deserves any blessings."

She studied Cloud as he seemed to let her words sink in. "Life is hard, Cloud. You know that, I'm sure of it. I don't know your past, but you wear it in your eyes. Life is hard for all of us. So when you receive a blessing, don't turn it away because you "don't deserve it," receive it with thanksgiving."

Emily smiled softly and placed her hand over his. "And if you still feel like it's too much, pay it forward. Take the love that someone's shown you that you didn't deserve, and give it out to someone else." She chuckled at this. "Trust me I've been where you are. But I realized that even though it sometimes feels wrong, it's okay to let other people treat you well."

Cloud looked down at her small hand covering his. "You're really something, Emily." He looked back up into her deep green eyes.

She glanced down but then smiled back up at him. "So are you." She stood and pulled Cloud to his feet as well. "I have something I want to show you. Would you come with me to the shop tomorrow afternoon?"

Cloud nodded. "Sure. I'd like that."

-- O --

Cloud leaned on the counter as he waited for Emily to finish with a customer. When she had told him they would be going to "the shop," he hadn't expected it to be a homemade candle store. He surveyed the shelved walls that held rows and rows of colorful, intricately carved candles. The Bordeaux's owned this place. They sure were fascinating people.

Again, he averted his wandering eyes to watch Emily. She was helping an older couple pick out the correct scent and color to match their dining room. When she was finished making the sale, she walked them to the door and waved them off.

She joined Cloud over at the counter. "The Geist's are such a nice couple. You can tell they love each other so much even after thirty-five years of marriage." Cloud smiled up at her through his bangs. She returned the smile. "Come with me."

Emily led Cloud into the dimly lit back room and sat down at a wooden table. She patted the chair next to her. "Have a seat." Cloud did.

She then reached across the table and pulled two relatively large cylinder candles out of a box. One was green and one was red. She passed the red one to Cloud. He took it from her, turned it over in his hands, and then looked up at her questioningly.

"We're going to carve them," Emily said brightly.

She set her own candle down on the surface before her and passed Cloud a small carving tool. He looked down at the wooden tool, and then met her eyes with an expression that said, "You're joking, right?"

Emily merely giggled and set to work on her own; small wax shavings beginning to accumulate below her working fingers. Cloud glanced down at the two objects in his hands then slowly began to chip away at the red paraffin. He toiled distractedly; his eyes flitting up to watch the amazing young woman that sat next to him concentrate.

It was dark outside the window of the back room when Emily sat back in her chair. She gave Cloud a bright smile and glanced down at the product of his labor. "Oh," she crooned. "That's lovely."

Cloud raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms."If it's so great, what is it?"

Emily looked up at him like a deer in the headlights. "Well…uh," she stammered. "It's an animal."

"Yeah. What kind of animal?"

"A lion?"

"Close," Cloud replied with sigh. "It's actually a dragon."

"Oh," Emily gasped. "I see it now. There's it' head and those are…"

Cloud grinned mischievously at her attempts to make out his awful carving. "I'm kidding. You were right the first time."

Emily looked back up him and then lightly punched him in the shoulder of his un-injured arm. "Jerk."

"Let's see yours."

"Oh," Emily said quietly. "It's nothing special."

She passed him the green candle that now was covered in expertly planned etchings. Cloud spun the piece in his hands. It was a perfect depiction of a graveyard. The clouds above loomed ominously and he could almost feel the wind that bent the leaves on the tree in the scene. He could even pick out flowers on one of the graves.

"Wow…this is good."

Emily sighed. "Thank you."

Cloud passed the candle back to her. "What made you carve a graveyard? I mean…it's kind of…sad."

Emily's smile was almost rueful. "A long time ago, I lost someone that I cared very much about. He was special to me in ways that no one ever was before. When he died, it left such a hole in my life." She placed her fingers gently on the grave with carved flowers. "Even now I wonder if there was something I could have done to save him; something that I missed."

Cloud was silent. _That sounds familiar._

"Sometimes I feel so lonely and guilt weighs me down." She picked the candle up of the table and looked Cloud in the eye. "When I start to feel those emotions creeping up on me, I carve them." She sensed Cloud's confusion and explained.

"When I carve, I take the bad emotions and memories and concentrate them into my work; setting the energy to good use. Then…I burn them."

"Burn them? After all that work?"

Emily smiled. "All those negative feelings are tested by the fire and give birth to a beautiful scent. It's like a cleansing; like forgiveness." She looked down at her hands. "It may sound strange, but it helps me."

A prolonged silence followed. It wasn't an awkward one, but more of an understanding. Cloud studied Emily's downcast face. She really was a mystery.

-- O --

A chorus of crickets sang into the inky night as the stars shone through the cracks in the smoky clouds overhead. Everyone inside the Bordeaux's brick house was asleep, dreams taking the place of daily worries and plans. Two candles burned on the windowsill of the wide, bay window in front; one adorned with a poorly carved lion, the other an intricate graveyard.

-- O --

**This chapter took a lot of time and effort and I can honestly say that I'm exhausted. This piece of the story is different than what I'd originally planned, but I feel that it's even better than I had hoped for. I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed weaving it. It's the longest chapter I'm going to have, but I feel that it's worth the time it will take to read.**

**Many thanks to Kimmit the Ferg for all her advice and help with the details. I'd be lost without you. And a special thanks to all who reviewed, favorited, and added me to their alerts list. I'm so flattered that you find this story so worthy of praise.**

**Finally, thank you to ****all**** my readers. I know that I haven't been dutiful in my updates, but I offer no apologies, just my gratitude. I cherish you all!**

**I also cherish your opinions. Please don't hesitate to leave a review on your way out or shoot me an e-mail if you have any questions, or just want to talk. Now that I've finished this portion of the story, I think I can have the next chapter up within the next two weeks. That's my goal, anyway.**

**So thank you again for reading. I'll be seeing you again soon.**

**Fight the power.**

**-- Illusion of the Mirror –**

12


	21. King Sloan

A Grim History

**WARNING!**** BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU'VE READ THE PREVIOUS ONE. Something was wrong the last time I uploaded and didn't send out notices to my subscribers. Sorry about that.**

**So, without further ado…**

King Sloan

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Once upon a time there was a young prince. He lived in an old castle with his many loyal servants and his father, the king. The king was not a wicked man, but he ruled his country with an iron fist and didn't tolerate those that disobeyed his laws. The prince grew up learning from his father's strength and vowed to one day be just as good a king.

But on the day of the prince's twelfth birthday, the king grew deathly ill. He called in all of the healers throughout the land to save his father, but everyone that came could do nothing to help the king. Distraught and aggrieved, the price went to visit the king on his deathbed.

"I leave this country to you, son. Rule it well," the king said and then breathed his last breath.

There was a huge funeral for the king and even the peasants were allowed to show their respects by coming to see his body. There were many tears, for the king was greatly loved.

But even though the king had meant for his son to take over the throne once he was dead, there were many that thought the prince could not handle the job. They plotted together and found ways to raise public suspicion of the prince in order to discredit his name. Then the king's advisors had the king's brother and his wife and son move into the castle, deciding that a grown man was better fit to rule the country than an adolescent prince.

The prince, however, was enraged. Not only were the advisors ignoring his father's dying wish by crowning the prince's uncle as the new king, but now his cousin was next in line and the young prince was cut out from the line to the throne entirely.

But the more the prince objected, the more the advisors saw him as an inadequate leader. The prince soon began to hate his uncle and cousin for taking his kingdom and his throne and as he grew older, his hate only grew stronger.

Seeing this, the new king sent the prince into the wars to lead the battle, hoping that he would die on the front lines. And when the prince didn't return with the rest of the army, the new king announced the prince dead.

However, the prince was not dead. He had been captured by the enemy and was thrown into their prison to die. But while he was there in the dark dungeon of the enemy's castle, he became friends with an old man who claimed to be a sorcerer with amazing powers. Filled with hate for his uncle and cousin and the kingdom that so foolishly disowned him the prince asked the man to help him learn the dark arts in exchange for helping the old man escape.

Day after day the price studied under the old sorcerer and his knowledge grew with each passing month. One night, there was a terrible storm that rocked the castle on the mountaintop and during the calamity, the prince and the old man escaped. Together, they traveled back to the prince's home country, gathering support from exiled sorcerers and mercenaries along the way.

On the night he returned, the prince snuck into the castle and smothered his uncle and the queen in the night. He left evidence that it was his cousin who had done the heinous deed and when they were found in the morning, the advisors apprehended the prince's cousin, throwing him in the dungeon under charge of murder.

It was then that the prince announced his return. Now the age of twenty, the prince seemed much more able to handle the kingdom in the advisors' eyes. They were so glad to have an heir that they promptly made arrangements to crown him the new king.

The prince's first act as king was to have his cousin put to death. His second, was to have his advisors executed for their disloyalty so long ago. Now, with no one standing in his way, the prince, now the king, could do as he pleased with his kingdom. Making the old sorcerer his head advisor, the king sought out any others that knew the dark arts. His plans were to take over the neighboring countries and hammer them into submission to his laws.

With his sorcerers at his side, the king led assault after assault on the kingdoms opposing him, gaining momentum as time went on. But as the king grew more hungry for power, he forgot about caring for his people and when they revolted, he became so angry that he ordered his men to ravage the countryside. Content that this act would stifle the rebellion, the king focused on finding a way to protect himself from further insurrections.

It was then that the old sorcerer, the head advisor to the king presented an evil plan. He knew of a monster deep in the forests that was very powerful. He proposed that the king find the demon, and vow to serve it in exchange for unsurpassed power and might. The king sent out his best fighters to find the demon, but only one returned.

"Did you find him?" The king asked angrily.

The man grinned wickedly and then transformed into a huge black monster. Terrified, the king fell on his knees, pledging his loyalty to the demon. But the demon was not interested in the king's loyalty and agreed to give the king power in exchange for something else; blood. The king consented immediately and allowed himself to become possessed by the evil spirit.

As time went on, the king not only ruled his country mercilessly, but he also raided the countryside, searching out young maidens that he sacrificed to feed the demon's appetite for blood. The people lived in terror until a group of knights that were loyal to the king's father rose up. Under the name of the Resistance, they convened in houses, churches, and pubs, gathering those brave enough to fight to their cause. There were many plans to assassinate the king, but all failed. No one could get close enough.

At about that time, a neighboring king that didn't want his country to be wiped out made an alliance with the king. To show his loyalty, he offered his daughter to the king. The Resistance saw this as their chance and contacted the new queen.

Though she was frightened of the king, she saw the devastation of the people and her heart went out to them, for she was a kind woman. She agreed to help the Resistance end the king's reign even though she risked coming to harm herself.

-- O –--

Tifa stared across the brightly lit room at Catherine Stratford, her arms crossed over chest uncomfortably. "Yeah, I've heard this fairy tale. The old lady in town used to tell us kids all kinds of old yarns. But…are you saying that the rebelling peasants in that story are…" She stopped and glanced at Emily Bordeaux, who sat next to her on the cream upholstered love-seat.

Catherine set down her china teacup and saucer, folding her hands in her lap. "Even the most far-fetched folklore and urban myths often have a seed of truth hidden behind their embellishments. In the case of this story, there is more truth than legend." The middle-aged professor smoothed her gray pencil skirt and adjusted her reading glasses. "Although there are many different endings that have been told for this story, there is only one truth."

"But you didn't finish," Emily added; those being the first words she had spoken since she and Tifa had been invited into Catherine's living quarters.

Professor Stratford nodded. "When the lead members of the Resistance approached the new queen, she was reluctant at first. But after a few weeks of living with the king, she saw that he truly held no love for her, let alone his people."

"Using the many hours she spent alone in the castle to pour over the books and records in the library, as well as the king's office, she discovered the secret to her husband's power. She became frightened, but she also grew all the more determined to find a way to help the people of the kingdom."

"Though the king had never trusted a single human soul other than his chief advisor, he did not expect his own queen's betrayal. In the night, she helped the Resistance break into the castle and they overpowered the king's sorcerers by use of protective spells but when the king tried to escape, he was shot down by an archer."

"Wait," Tifa interrupted. "I heard that he was thrown into jail. They found his sorcerers dead in the morning with their hearts torn out. All that was left was his crown and the bloodstone was glowing."

Catherine was taken aback for a moment but then smiled kindly. "The leaders felt that it would have been better to tell the subjects that the king had escaped from the cell, rather than from his bed."

Tifa unfolded her arms and sat forward in her chair. "But I thought you said he was killed."

"He was." The professor's smile faded. "The spirit, weakened from the spells used by the Resistance in their offensive, used the king's body to escape during the next day. It's true about the king's sorcerers, but the king was never imprisoned in the first place. He had been shot in the heart with an arrow, after all."

Tifa let that sink in as she absently surveyed the immaculate shelves of books along the walls. "So…the demon killed the sorcerers to gain power?"

"Consumed is more the word. And when the Resistance discovered that the king's body was gone, they began frantically searching for him. The queen, however, began to go back through all the king's research and discovered a way to imprison the demon and nullify its powers. Taking the blood red ruby from the king's crown, she had the goldsmith make the talisman and place the stone in the center. She then personally carved the incantation that would trap the monster within the stone into the gold."

"The Resistance searched tirelessly for the demon. It was easy to follow its trail of bloodshed throughout the countryside. Obviously, it had no inclination that the humans could defeat it, for it felt no need to cover its tracks. When they finally caught up to the monstrosity, it had long since abandoned the body of the king. There was a great battle and many lives were lost. It had no intention of allowing them to capture it."

"But in the end, it was the queen herself that shouted the incantation and pulled the demon from this realm and into the bloodstone even though she was critically wounded by it." Catherine picked up a porcelain teapot from the coffee table and poured herself another cup of hot tea. "The talisman was then hidden away so that the dark being could never be released."

Emily took the teapot from Catherine and poured herself another cup as well. She offered some to Tifa, but Tifa declined. "No thanks." She addressed the professor. "It's obvious that the talisman didn't stay hidden. What happened?"

There was a loud clink as Emily set the teapot back down on the glass top of the coffee table a little too harshly. "What happened?" She asked indignantly. "The people forgot. As time wore on, they started to remember less and less until it was all just a bedtime story."

Catherine nodded. "Yes. But the ancestors of the king's sorcerers never forgot. Their deep seeded hatred for the Resistance was passed down through the generations until a malevolent man named Sebastian created a political party named The King's Men. Under the banner of change, Sebastian gained support with the working class and soon the middle and upper classes as well. But what the public didn't know, was that he was a direct descendant of one of King Sloan's sorcerers and was slowly, but surely, finding the members of the Resistance and executing them."

"That's why the Resistance set up the village in the mountains, Sráidbhaile. I read about that in Marie's journal," Tifa offered.

"And then Sebastian's son, Kale, led the massacre at the village in an attempt to find the talisman and the one with the Gift," Emily added.

Tifa scoffed. "More like the Curse."

"Actually," Professor Stratford interjected. "You're more right than you know. It's surmised that "the Gift" is in fact a mental or spiritual scar, if you will, that has been passed down the bloodline of the ancient queen. She acquired it when she was injured by the demon so long ago and now her daughters are connected to it as well."

"Connected?"

"The memories that you experience is a playback of what the demon has experienced from its resting place in the talisman."

Tifa frowned. "It really is a curse then." Suddenly, a disturbing thought flashed into Tifa's mind.

"Marie said something about Sebastian wanting to wield the bloodstone. Do you suppose that's what Darknation wants to do now?"

"Yes," Catherine answered gravely. "In fact, we're positive that's what they plan to do."

"Which is why we absolutely need to find their hiding place **now**!" Emily stood up from her seat and began pacing. "All this waiting is wasting time!"

Tifa looked back and forth between the two of them. She could definitely relate to how Emily was feeling. How Catherine could sip her tea so calmly was beyond her.

"Patience, Emily," Stratford said evenly. "All in due time."

Unable to calmly sit down any longer, Tifa pushed herself up off the love-seat. "What about the others? Why haven't you told any of them this? I mean, Darknation is planning to awaken an evil demon. That's kind of-"

"They are being informed as we speak." Catherine uncrossed her legs and stood as well, still holding her teacup. "The council isn't going to as much detail in the past, but I figured you'd want to know."

Tifa looked toward the door. "So now what?"

"Now," the professor smiled wanly. "We wait."

-- O --

Discouraged could not even begin to describe how Tifa was feeling as Emily, Aiden, and a few other members of the Resistance suited up to go on an expedition to find Darknation's base of operations. Convincing the council to send out a team hadn't been all that difficult now that Darknation possessed the talisman. Tifa still wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but she knew it wasn't a good thing.

Actually, it was a bad thing.

Tifa was drawn away from her thoughts when she felt a small hand slip into her own. Looking down, she saw Denzel staring about with wide eyes. She knew he didn't know the gravity of the situation they were in, but she also knew he was smart enough to figure out that something was awry.

"Tifa," he began quietly. "Aren't you going with them?"

Tifa sighed. "No, Denzel. I'm staying here."

"But Barret, Vincent, Cid, Yuffie, and Red are going."

She noticed that he left Cloud's name out of the list. "Well, they're not injured like you and me." She pointed to her freshly wrapped forehead. "And these bandages don't come in camouflage. I can't hide very well with a bright white beacon on my face."

Denzel laughed half-heartedly. "I guess not." Tifa gave his hand a squeeze and he looked up at her with misty eyes.

"Hey, you," she said as she knelt down to his height. "You're strong, not to mention very brave. Don't beat yourself up over something you can't control." The boy nodded, but Tifa could tell her words would do little to ease his self-torture. _I wonder where he learned that._ She sighed and hugged him to her.

As Tifa released the boy from her embrace, she could hear boot steps approaching and turned around to see Vincent looking down at her with his typical emotionless stare.

"Denzel," he said with only a quick glance at the boy, "You had better say goodbye to the others. They'll be leaving soon." Denzel nodded and hobbled off with the help of the nurse who had taken care of him since he arrived, never leaving his side.

Tifa looked down, avoiding Vincent's eyes. "So, I guess you'll be going now too."

"Yes, I will." He reached out and lifted her chin until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. It seemed to bore right through her.

"But I will come back for you."

Tifa melted. She hadn't intended to, but it had been so long since someone had actually told her that…and meant it. She fell against Vincent's warm chest and wrapped her arms desperately around him. "You had better," she mumbled into his shirt.

Vincent folded his own arms around her form and stroked the back head with gentle fingertips, placing his chin on the top of her head. She didn't see the way that he closed his eyes and slightly smiled as she clung to him, but the pair of cold blue eyes across the room caught every second of their interaction.

When the last call for all the members of the search party was called out, Tifa slowly dropped her arms as Vincent backed away. She didn't want him to go, but she knew that was selfish of her. He was a valuable addition the task force, and she had no business asking him to stay and hold her as she fell asleep in his arms.

Reaching down and taking her hand in his, Vincent slowly lifted her fingertips to his lips. Slowly and with purpose, he lightly kissed each of her knuckles. Then, with one last intense look into her eyes, he turned and followed the others to the vehicles they would be departing in. Tifa instantly felt cold.

-- O --

**Greetings! I realize this chapter is shorter than my last few, but I figure with the last chapter being so freaking long…you guys needed a break. nn**

**So thank you all for being so patient with me, and I hope you enjoy these new developments. Fair warning: there will probably be more romance to come seeing as I've recently gotten a new inspiration.**

**Thank you to all of my faithful readers and newcomers alike. I'm thrilled that this story is getting such good ratings. Shoot me a review if you have and questions or concerns. Your opinion matters to me! Rawr!**

**Fight the power!**

**-- Illusion of the Mirror --**

7


	22. When it Rains

When It Rains…

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Tifa was very quiet and it discomforted Denzel. He watched as she absently picked at the bandage on her forehead while staring into the space between her and the door to the hallway. Words, still half-formed, pleaded to erupt into the silence, if only to chase away the overbearing quiet. He didn't like seeing her this way, so lost. Desperate for some way to cheer her up, Denzel surveyed the room. The sad truth was he needed cheering up too.

Suddenly, the door to the brightly furnished lounge slid open, and three young children entered the room, dragging with them a din of scuffling shoes and obnoxious laughter. They immediately went silent when they spotted Denzel glaring severely at them. The tallest, a girl with wild green eyes and even wilder blonde curls stepped forward and appraised him almost condescendingly. Denzel was indignant.

"See something you like?" he questioned flatly.

The girl huffed and started to circle him, the two boys trailing her like baby ducks. "No, all I see is some dumb kid who thinks he's all that and a bag of jelly beans." She took a step toward the red velvet chair Denzel was sitting at and pointed a slender bandaged finger at his nose. "State your name, knave."

It was then that the shortest of the intruding children noticed Tifa sitting quietly in the corner bemusedly surveying their interaction. "Uh, Luna…" He lifted a chubby hand and tugged on the hem of the girl's shirt.

"What is it, Sir Benji?" Her eyes went wide when they met Tifa's and she immediately dropped her offending finger to her side. "Oh…hi."

Tifa cocked her head to the side and stifled a smile. "Hi."

Luna looked down at Benji and then the taller boy that stood next to her as if questioning them what to do. When both of them just stared back at her with wide eyes, she shrugged and stuck out her hand to Tifa. "My name's Luna. That's L-U-N-A, not L-O-O-N-A."

Tifa grasped the girl's hand and Luna gave it a firm shake. She shot a thumb over her shoulder. "These here are my pals Mason and Benji."

Tifa smiled brightly. "It's nice to meet you. My name's Tifa."

Luna's eyes went startlingly wide. "Tifa!? As in Cloud Strife's friend, Tifa!?"

Denzel had had quite enough of this introduction, specifically because it didn't include him. He slipped from his chair to tower above all three of the newcomers. "No, as in Tifa Lockheart, a member of AVALANCE that helped save the world…**twice**."

Luna turned and crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. I think we're talking about the same person, Mr. Serious."

Denzel grimaced, his face reddening. "I **have** a name, you know."

"Yeah, we all do. You think that makes you special, or something?"

Tifa suddenly felt the need to interject before this not so playful banter escalated. "I am Cloud's friend, Luna. Why? Do you know him?"

The taller boy with greasy brown hair and glasses half the size of his face stepped forward excitedly. "Yeah, yeah, Cloud stayed at Luna's house for a long time. He's not too bad at gin rummy, you know."

"Or hide and seek," Benji interjected meekly.

Tifa was confused. "R-really? When was this?"

Mason sniffed loudly and pushed his glasses up his short nose. "Well, he got into this huge accident, you see, and then Emily found him and he came back to Luna's house and he stayed there for a long time while he got better and he had these huge scratches all over his body that oozed all kinds of stuff and sometimes gravel would-"

"Emily?" Tifa met the young girl's eyes. "Emily Bordeaux?"

"Yeah, she's my sister. She's kinda cool, I guess." Luna shrugged. "But not near as cool as Cloud Strife. He's real strong, you know?"

Tifa was at a loss for words. _Cloud was in an accident? Why hadn't he ever said anything? He could've called, or written, or something! _She put a hand to her spinning head and felt the dull ache from her injury pulse beneath the bandages. This was…upsetting news.

There was a sudden bang as the wooden endtable that was next to Denzel's chair clattered to the concrete floor. Startled, Tifa looked up just in time to see her young companion rapidly limping from the room, his half-empty bottle of soda leaking its contents steadily onto the area rug below.

"Oh no!" Benji immediately bent down to pick up the plastic bottle as Mason quickly righted the table.

"What's eating him?" Luna queried crossly, glaring out the door after Denzel's retreating form. Then her facial expression softened and she looked up at Tifa. "Was it something I said?"

Tifa pushed herself up from her seat slowly, careful to avoid succumbing to the dizziness that washed over her. She gazed down at the fiery child and patted her lightly on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it, honey. I'm going to go look for him."

"Do you want us to help?" Mason boldly questioned.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to hurt Mr. Serious' feelings or anything," Luna added with her eyebrows drawn abashedly.

"That's okay," Tifa sighed. "You guys can go ahead and go back to playing. It was nice meeting you." She had reached the doorway when she turned to see that while the two boys had stayed back to play cards, Luna had followed her.

"I want to help."

Tifa smiled languidly. "Okay, maybe you can show me how to get around this place."

--- O ---

It hadn't taken long for the two to split up. Luna had suggested that Tifa go check the mess hall and greater areas while she went to search the utility rooms. Though she didn't know if this young girl was the best person to find Denzel now, she had agreed. Luna was stubborn, it didn't take very long to figure that out. She'd help look even if Tifa had ordered her to stay behind.

And so it was, Luna had parted to go her own way and now Tifa was left on her own. She padded distractedly down the brilliantly white hallway toward the main room, scanning for Denzel's mop of brunette locks. She knew exactly why he had run. Heck, if she had been in his place, she would have run too.

Here were these complete strangers who were going on and on about memories they had with the man that should've been in **his** life. Tifa felt a pang of sorrow for the boy. He had been so grief-ridden when Cloud left…and now, to hear that he was with someone else…with another family…

Red hot anger boiled beneath Tifa's skin as her footsteps grew heavier on the tile floor. _That bastard!_ She had long ago locked away the pain that Cloud's abandonment had brought her, but she could never forgive him for how he had hurt the children. And now, to find out this! To find out that he had been living with a different family sharing the love and warmth that he had denied the ones that needed him the most was infuriating!

Tifa halted in her steps and clenched her fists, her teeth slicing painfully through her bottom lip as she clenched her jaw. In an act of pure, unabated fury, she drew up a fist and slammed it into the wall, the painted surface giving way beneath the sheer force. _And on top of it all, he was injured! In an accident and he didn't even think to…_

"Uh, I realize that, uh, the layout of the bunker can be confusing, Ms. Lockheart, but you could always just ask for directions."

Tifa's eyes shot open and she whirled around just a bit too quickly. The hallway wavered out of focus for a moment before she realized that she was face to face with Professor Alexander Altmann. She immediately glanced at the gaping hole in the drywall and then tucked the throbbing fist into her opposite hand. "I…I'm sorry…" A blush slipped across the bridge of her nose and down onto her neck.

Altmann took a step closer and surveyed the fissure in the previously perfect wall. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and then shut it, taking a moment to rub his scruffy chin. He then sighed and shook his head. "It's not too big a deal…but, just in case, we should leave before someone sees us here."

Tifa met the man's honey colored eyes. "But I-"

Alexander Altman took her elbow. "Didn't see anything? Exactly, neither did I." He led her around the next corner and then looked both ways before guiding her into the next room.

Once the door was safely closed, Altmann released his grip on Tifa's limb. She paused to examine the room. It appeared to be some sort of library office. The space was lined with shelves that were over-stuffed with books, binders, and loose papers. The counters below were covered with scattered documents and articles that seemed to be in no order what-so-ever as their contents spilled onto chairs, tables, and in some places even onto the floor. In the midst of it all, stood a single black office chair which the professor crossed over to. He pushed it into its place under a desk that held a computer monitor which stuck up from the sea of disarray.

The walls that didn't have shelves, sported a corkboard stuck full of pins holding prints and notes, a placard of the periodic table of elements, and several other smaller framed pictures. But the item that most caught Tifa's attention was an image that was stuck to the front of a filing cabinet to her left. There was no mistaking it; it was an image of the Talisman.

Altmann followed her gaze and then nodded before pulling the tie from his long hair, allowing it to spill down to graze his shoulders. "Ah, I see you've found something that interests you."

Tifa reached up and placed a finger on the picture before turning to the professor. "Not interest, sir, more like it curses me." She made a sweeping gaze over the cluttered room. "Where are we, anyway?"

"This," the professor answered as he retied his hair into a ponytail. "This is my office." Tifa's eyes widened and Altmann chuckled. "Humble as it is." He stepped forward and pulled the picture down from the filing cabinet with a flick of the wrist. "Ms. Lockheart, do you, by any chance, know what the Talisman is made out of?"

Tifa thought a moment. What kind of question was this? "Um, I heard that it was made of gold and the stone in the center is from the King's crown."

The professor smiled wryly, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the room. "A good guess, you know your history." He paused and held the picture out for Tifa to inspect. "Now can you tell me why it's made of gold?"

Tifa was growing weary of this game. "I don't know, Professor Altmann, because gold is pure?"

"Nope. It's actually because it looks pretty." Tifa's eyebrows drew together and the professor smiled. "It doesn't matter what the talisman is made from, just as long as it has the stone in the center and the incantation around the outside to keep the dark spirit in place." He set the paper down on a pile of open books and then crossed to a shelf on the opposite side of the room. "Which is good, because gold is hard to come by these days."

Tifa watched curiously as Alexander pulled a white box from the top shelf. He blew a thin layer of gray dust off the top, coughed gently, and then removed the lid. He then held it down for Tifa to see the contents. She nearly gasped with surprise. "It's the Talisman!" _But that's not right…there's three of them in here…_

"Actually, they're just painstakingly made copies." Altmann pulled one of the items from the box to reveal that it was exactly similar to **the** Talisman except that it had no stone in the center. "You see, I figured that this way, if the real Talisman was ever…injured, we would have back-ups."

Tifa smiled at the boyish grin that the professor wore as he showed off the fruits of his labor. "They're very nice," she offered.

"Nice?" Alexander snorted. "They most certainly are not! They're perfect!"

Giggling at the blatant jest in the professor's voice, Tifa reached up to scratch the itchy bandage on her noggin. It was then that she suddenly remembered her previous destination. "Oh, I forgot about Denzel!"

--- O ---

_Well, what did you expect? It's not like you should be surprised. Cloud can live his own life, it's none of your business. _Denzel sat underneath a work bench in the unoccupied section of the hanger that he had first arrived in when he came to this place. His knees were folded up beneath his chin and he fought to convince himself that he wasn't upset as traitorous tears slid down his cheeks. _But why wasn't I good enough?_

Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye, Denzel looked up to see that Luna girl standing there looking down at him, awkwardly shifting her weight between her two feet. He buried his cheeks behind his knees and turned his head from her. But she didn't budge. She just stood there as if waiting for him to get up and dance for her.

"You want something?" He asked tersely.

Taking this as some sort of go-ahead, the girl moved forward and sat down next to him. Couldn't she tell that he wanted her to go away?

"Look, Mr. Serious, I'm sorry if I said something to make you angry earlier. I was just fooling around." Denzel ignored her apology. What did she know anyway? Much to his chagrin, Luna scooted closer. "Are you crying?"

Damn it, couldn't this girl take a hint!? "No." Denzel angled himself away from her and occupied his gaze with the concrete below him. "I want to be alone now…so go away." As an afterthought he added, "Please."

Luna overlooked his request. "I know who you are, you know. Denzel, right?" She sighed when she received no answer, but continued undaunted. "He used to talk about you, **a lot**."

Denzel stiffened next to her, listening begrudgingly, but listening all the same.

"Actually," she added quietly. "I used to get kinda jealous, the way he'd always be talking about you and Marly."

"Her name's Marlene," Denzel corrected succinctly.

"Okay, Marlene, then. But my point is that he obviously loved you guys a lot."

Denzel couldn't take it anymore, he spun around and faced Luna head-on, his face red with anger and hurt. "Then why'd he leave, can you tell me that?! Why did he spend time with you and your stupid friends playing stupid games if he loved us so much?! Why wasn't he there?!" The tears were flowing relentlessly now despite his best efforts to quell them.

The young blonde was taken aback. She looked down at the floor and bit her lip. Denzel sniffed loudly and hid his face behind his knees once more, trying to stifle his sobs.

It was only a few minutes before Luna spoke, but it felt like hours. "I guess it was because he didn't think he could." Luna sighed and pulled her knees up under her chin just like Denzel. "Cloud Strife was always talking about you, that's true, but when he wasn't, he was talking about how much he didn't deserve stuff. He'd be like 'I don't deserve this soup' or 'I don't deserve these blankets' and stuff like that." She deepened her voice to imitate Cloud and Denzel almost smiled. Almost.

"So I think the reason he left is because he felt like he had failed you somehow."

Denzel shifted his weight and then looked at the girl. Luna glanced up at him and their eyes met. "I know it's not a good reason. But, it's all I got, okay?" She reached up a hand and tucked a wild curl behind her ear. "He missed you a lot, though. I could always tell that he really wanted to go back."

The hot, salty tear that forged its way down Denzel's cheek soaked into the knee of his jeans and he sniffed to keep his snot from leaking out of his nose. "But he didn't."

Luna sighed and placed a steady hand on his shoulder shamelessly. "We all do things we shouldn't, Mr. Serious. And sometimes, we don't do things that we should. That doesn't make it right; it just makes it the truth."

Denzel sniffed again. What a strange girl this was. She could be so tough one moment, then so sympathetic the next. And she didn't even know him. He was about to reply when there was an unexpected movement out in the hanger.

Both Luna and Denzel craned their necks to peer out into the open space but then Denzel caught sight of the perpetrators of the noise and shot back under the work bench, pulling the girl with him. "What are you-" Denzel slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late, they had heard. A tall figure clad in a black cape looked directly at them and produced a large assault rifle from underneath the folds of his garment. Luna screamed.

--- O ---

Both Tifa and Professor Alexander Altmann were searching the immaculate white hallways for Denzel when they heard a shrill cry echo down the corridor followed by gunshots. Doors flung open on both sides of the passageway as inhabitants of the bunker shot out to see what was going on. A short, blonde woman came up from behind Tifa and gasped. "That sounded like my Luna!"

There was a sudden stampede as dozens of sets of feet raced down the hall toward the hanger. Just as Tifa was about to open the door to the bus bay, it swung inward and a cloaked figure burst in, brandishing an automatic weapon. Gunshots rang out. There were screams. Tifa managed to throw herself to the floor just in time to avoid the spray of bullets, bruising her knees in the act. She clamped her hands over her ears as the reverberation in her head bombarded her brain.

Gaining control of her senses, Tifa took a split second to assess the situation and then shot out a hand to slam the metal door on the intruder with a loud clang. She heard him cuss as he toppled to the ground outside. Clamoring to her feet, Tifa flung herself against the bottom of the door, attempting to barricade the attacker from entering again but wary that the intruder may open fire on the door itself. She felt a presence at her side and turned to see Professor Altmann propped against the door alongside her.

A commotion erupted beyond the barred entryway as screams of agony, gunshots, and desperate pleads for mercy muddled together. "It's Darknation," a woman behind them moaned as she helped an injured man off the floor. Tifa turned to see that the intruder had managed to gun down over half of the people in the hallway.

"Damn it!" A young man shouted as he lifted himself from the floor while clutching a bleeding shoulder. "How did they find us here?"

"It won't be long until they discover the alternative route around to where we are," Altmann interjected loudly. Both his and Tifa's forms shook as the attacker pounded on the other side of the door, bellowing demands to be let in.

"What do we do? We have to get these people out of here!" Tifa gasped. Whoever was trying to get in, was now throwing himself against the barricade with full force. Her body shuddered with each bang as she struggled to keep the door from giving in.

The short woman from before crawled over and joined them at the entryway. "The only ways out are through the hanger! But, my daughter's out there!" Tears burst from her red, puffy eyes.

"We'll have to fight our way out," the injured man added.

"That's impossible! We'll be killed!" someone else shouted from behind him.

"We'll be killed either way," Tifa exclaimed. "Better to make a break for it!" She winced at the pounding in her head and the throbbing of her newly scuffed and bruised shoulders. "Do we have any weapons?!"

Altmann reached into his vest and produced a set of throwing daggers. "This is all I have here."

The injured man stood up straight. "Well, that's not gonna save us all, Doc! Anyone who's willing or able, come with me! We can get some weapons!"

"Crispin, it's too dangerous," Luna's mother replied.

"We have to try!" With that, Crispin and four others turned and flew back down the hallway and around the corner.

Then, the pounding on the door subsided. Tifa looked to Altmann. He gripped his daggers tightly. "I'll go first, I've had a good life."

Before Tifa could respond, Altmann pushed her back and pulled the door open a crack, then, seeing no one directly in front of them, he snuck out.

Tifa looked down at the bleeding bodies on the floor, their faces still contorted in shock and fear. Three still remained with her and Luna's mother. There were gunshots down the next corridor from them. It was now, or never.

In an instant, Tifa pitched the door open and burst out into the bunker to see Professor Altmann pulling one of his daggers from the forehead of a fallen member of Darknation. He picked up the fallen enemy's handgun and handed it to Tifa. "You'll need this."

"What about you?" Tifa shouted as they ducked behind one of the buses parked near the corridor they had just come from.

Altmann held up a dagger and waved it briefly with a smirk. "I'll be fine, just get out of here!"

A figure in a dark cloak stepped around the corner of the bus nearest to Tifa and leveled his weapon just in time to receive a fist right in the center of his face. The man's body crumpled to the ground and Tifa picked up his gun, passing it to one of the other survivors hiding behind the immense vehicle. "You cover their retreat, Professor! I have to find Denzel!"

"No, wait!"

But Tifa didn't even pause. She dashed across the gap between the bus and the one beside it then sidled along until she could see around the corner. Screams, shots, and sounds of battle echoed everywhere. Tifa surveyed the area carefully, watching for the young boy, hopeful that he was safe, but fearing the worst.

--- O ---

The cloaked figure came straight over to Denzel and Luna, pointing his weapon directly at them. He let loose a cruel laugh. "Which one first? The girl or the boy?"

Denzel winced as Luna's nails dug in to his shoulder and he felt the ground behind him for something, anything he could use as a weapon. His fingers closed around the handle of a fallen hammer, and in a moment, he charged out from under the work bench and slammed the head of the mallet as hard as he could into the side of the man's knee.

It worked! The man plummeted to the ground, his weapon firing into the air and shattering a light fixture high above. Shards of glass and metal rained down on them as the man pointed his rifle at Denzel with burning hatred in his eyes. "You're dead, you little punk!"

Denzel waited for the searing pain of a bullet ripping through his vital organs, but it didn't come. Instead, he heard a loud bang and opened his eyes to see Luna standing over the now unconscious man, a heavy drawer from the toolbox on the bench clutched in her hands. She stared at him with wide, misty eyes.

"Thanks," Denzel nodded. He took the girl's trembling hand. "Come on! We have to get out of here!"

Together, the two children dashed to the nearest utility truck and slid beneath. It was a tight squeeze, but if Denzel calculated right, they couldn't be seen by the intruders. He could see them, however. They were swarming the place like wasps. "Who are these people?" Luna whispered shakily.

"Darknation," Denzel replied seriously. They had to warn someone. The bunker was under attack!

"I was afraid of that." Luna shifted closer to him. "What do we do?"

Denzel's thoughts shot to Tifa. He wondered if she were okay. Of course she was. She could protect herself…besides, he had to worry about himself right now. "How can we get out of here?"

Luna thought a moment. "The only way out is through one of those tunnels." She pointed to the three large doors through which the buses and trucks came and went. "But how do we get to one of them?"

By now, there were gunshots and screams echoing from everywhere. Denzel couldn't hear himself think, much less form a plan. He watch helplessly as Darknation ripped apart machinery and rushed through the doors to the living quarters. People were dying. He knew it, and there was nothing he could do. It was just like before. He looked over at Luna as she sobbed silently into her palms.

No. This time would be different. This time he would do something. This time he would save her.

--- O ---

Tifa stepped over the Darknation soldier she had just clobbered with a tire iron and dragged him behind the nearest counter.

She had an idea now.

Pulling the black cloak from the man's limp body with more than a little effort, she gave the man's head a hard kick, just to be on the safe side. Tifa swung the cloak over her shoulders and fastened it around her neck, pulling the hood and mask over her head to conceal her identity. Now she could look for Denzel without getting shot…she hoped.

She picked up the man's rifle and held it out in front of her just as he had been doing. _Think, Tifa. Think! You and the professor searched all of the back rooms, so Denzel must have been in here._ Carefully advancing forward, Tifa scanned the area and spotted the doorway where Altmann was leading the survivors out. The man could really hold his own in a fight. She would hate to be on the opposite end of his blade.

"Hey!" Tifa froze as another man in a cloak approached her. "What are you doing?"

Tifa forced herself to respond, lowering her voice in what she knew was a lame attempt to sound like a man. "Looking for survivors."

The man scoffed. "Well, here, help me set these." With that comment, he tugged the gun from Tifa's hands and shoved an armful of something towards her. Tifa recognized them immediately from her days battling Shinra: explosives.

The man set the weapon aside and chuckled. "We get these set and off, and there won't be any survivors." He pointed across the hanger to one of the huge metal doors used to get in and out of the depot. "Start there."

Tifa nodded and followed the man's direction, stunned that she had actually managed to fool him. She traversed the vicinity quickly, all the while searching for any sign of Denzel.

--- O ---

The closest exit was at least a hundred feet away. Denzel knew it would be risky, but he also knew they couldn't stay under this truck forever. He had to get Luna to safety. And then he would find Tifa. Figuring their best bet would be to go from hiding place to hiding place, Denzel searched for a spot that could harbor them and would be closer to the door. There, about fifteen feet away there was an overturned table.

"Luna," he uttered quietly to the cowering girl that clutched his arm in a vice-like grip. "We're going to make a break for that table, okay?"

He could tell that she wanted to protest, but he didn't give her the chance. Sliding as close as he could to the open without protruding out, Denzel prepared himself silently. _Three…two…one….now!_

Slipping easily from under the vehicle, Denzel shot toward the safety of the overturned table, Luna in tow close behind. In all seriousness, he didn't expect to make it unnoticed, so it came as a pleasant surprise when he and the girl collapsed behind the barrier unscathed. He was shaking from the adrenaline that pumped through his veins, but he knew that this was only their first victory. They still had a long way to go before they were safe.

Turning over onto his stomach, Denzel peered out past the edge of the tabletop. He could see a cloaked figure heading across the hanger to the door they were working their way to. _Now what?_

Luna tugged on Denzel's shirt sleeve and he turned instinctively to look at her. "Okay, Mr. Serious," she whispered hoarsely. "Our next target should be that shelf over there. It's not all the way against the wall."

Denzel nodded as he spied the shelf she spoke of. It was a good twenty feet away but they just might make it if they waited for the opportune moment in all the confusion. By now, there was obvious signs of the Resistance fighting back, and crossfire had erupted on the far side of the bunker. That was their ticket out of here.

"Alright, we'll go on three, okay?" Denzel sat up on his heels, muscles coiled for the sprint to the shelf.

"Now!" Luna whispered loudly and then she sped off.

Denzel's mouth fell open. "Wait, I…oh crap." He dashed off after the girl just as the light fixture over the table they had just been hiding behind came crashing down, metal and glass flying everywhere.

--- O ---

The explosives that Tifa held in her hands were small, but horribly effective, if she recalled correctly. She hoped that Professor Altmann could get the survivors out before the place blew to hell. She had just about reached the large, metal door when light fixture from the vaulted ceiling crashed to the floor not far from where she was standing.

Stray bullets from the gunfights going on were ricocheting everywhere. She needed desperately to find Denzel, but she knew the odds were slim. There was so much mayhem, what with the Resistance giving up a fight. She glanced all around her but couldn't spot him anywhere. Now at the door, she looked for a way to open it. She would have to know how to get out of here when the time came.

--- O ---

From the shelf, to a truck, to a pile of tires: Denzel and Luna were nearly at the door. Now all that stood between them and freedom was that cloaked figure that seemed to be surveying the metal doorframe for something.

"Oh no…" Luna muttered beside him. "They're planting explosives." She pointed the bundle of items the figure held in his arms.

"Then it's time to go." Denzel looked around for something he could use to fight the sole enemy. Finding a prybar, he rose to his haunches and prepared himself. "Do you know how to get the door open, Luna?"

Luna nodded. "Dad taught me." She cast a worried glance down at her feet. "I really hope he and Mom are okay."

"Alright, well, get ready. I'm going to take this guy out, and you open the door."

Luna nodded again, this time with absolute resolve. "Right."

--- O ---

Precious time was passing and Tifa knew it. She still hadn't found Denzel and she still had no idea how to get this freaking door open. Exasperated, she turned and placed her back against the hard metal surface just in time to see a prybar swinging toward her face.

Tifa dodged in the nick of time but her assailer came at her again, violently swinging the metal instrument. A quick glance revealed exactly who it was attacking her. _Denzel!_

Instinctively, Tifa reached out to grab hold of the boy, forgetting entirely that she looked like one of the enemy in her cloak and mask. Denzel dodged her hands and took another swing, this time managing to make contact with her left arm just above the elbow. Sharp pain seared Tifa's nerves and a cry escaped her lips.

Denzel paused…that had sounded an awful lot like…

Tifa reached up and tugged the mask from her face with the hand from her uninjured arm. "Stop! It's me!"

Denzel's eyes went wide and his face paled. "Tifa!" He dropped the prybar and it clattered to the floor. "Oh, Tifa I'm sorry!"

At that moment, the metal door to the hanger ground upward and Luna began tugging at Denzel's arm. "Time to go, Mr. Serious!"

Tifa followed the two children and they ducked under the slowly rising door. All three of them scurried as fast as their legs could carry them down the dark tunnel, praying that they could make it to safety before Darknation discovered the escaping survivors, or even worse, the explosives went off and the whole place came down.

--- O ---

**This is a LOOOOONG chapter. So, my apologies if you are afraid of long installments in your fanfiction. n_n This was a long time coming, and *whew* am I ever glad it's over. However, I'm still not completely satisfied with the way it turned out. Meh, I just couldn't stand to fiddle with it any longer and decided to post.**

**So here's the deal. You all are my trusted advisors, so advise me! What would you like to see? Did this chapter have enough action? Was it realistic enough? Does Tifa need to kick some more $$? Just click that happy little button below and shoot me a review. I'd love some feedback.**

**Okay, okay, my author's note is getting long. I promise it'll be over soon. A shout-out to TifaValentine99, Valentinesbullet, minaghostwolf, Regin, Eva, CassiaFistula, and lillyandandrew for reviewing! Props to you! A special thanks, again, goes to Kimmit the Ferg for beta-ing and advice.**

**I hope that you guys enjoyed this chapter…I don't know when I'll be back. : / I don't have the internet at home right now. So until next time!**

**Fight the power!**

**~ Illusion of the Mirror ~**

13


	23. A Way In

**Holy Crap, I'm alive!**

**That's right, and I'm back with more shenanigans and tomfoolery to boot! **

**I have had the most serious case of writers' block this side of the galaxy but have finally come out of it the victor. I've been reading a lot of Pirates of the Caribbean and Tin Man fanfiction recently, and it really kicked my butt back into gear. I highly recommend the works of Lirulin(PotC), Larael(PotC), and Glitterbee(Tin Man). Alright, now that my plugging is out of the way…**

**On to the story!**

A Way In

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Mordecai Deslando was a decidedly unremarkable man, his hair graying and his eyes sporting crows' feet at their edges. He was about five foot ten, 210 pounds and seemed to lope about in a cloud of distraction. He drove an average car, managed an average hotel, and went home to his average apartment every night to cook dinner for himself and then go to bed.

If it hadn't been for the informant that reported the man's undisputable involvement in Darknation, Emily would have never even noticed him. At first, she had been upset that she and Cloud had been assigned this man. There were a dozen names on the list, and she had fought to be assigned to a more…promising member.

But Andrew had been steadfast in his decision. She was to tail Deslando and try to ascertain the location of Darknation's base of operations.

So far, the day had been disappointing. Although the hill behind their target's house made a perfect surveillance point to see strait into Deslando's windows, and it even had an unused dirt road leading up to the top, there had been very little to survey. Deslando had stayed home from work and opted to sit in his armchair and read the entire morning. It wasn't until about one o'clock in the afternoon that the middle-aged man even moved from his spot to refill his mug of coffee. At two-thirty, however, a silver suv pulled into the driveway. Deslando snapped his hardback shut, drew the gray curtains hanging in his front room, and went out to greet his guest.

Neither Emily nor Cloud could get a detailed glimpse of who sat in the driver's seat, his face being concealed by the large lenses of his sunglasses, but the man's sandy blonde hair shone in the sun shining through his open window. He nodded to Deslando, who had locked his front door, and then came around the back of the vehicle, looking both directions down the street. Satisfied, he slid on his own pair of shades and slipped into the passenger seat.

Emily placed a hand on Cloud's arm. This was it. He caught her eye as he turned the ignition key and started their car. "Alright, Em. Let's Mosey."

--- O ---

Cloud had proved very effective at tailing someone and remaining unnoticed. It helped that Emily's dark green sedan was a popular model. But as their target led them closer and closer to city limits and other vehicles became fewer and further between, Cloud had to increase the distance between them. Trees began to line the sides of the single lane highway and arc over the traffic below. A few minutes later, the silver suv slowed and turned left onto a private drive.

"What should we do now?" Cloud queried as he pulled to a stop on the shoulder of the road opposite the gravel drive.

Emily thought for a moment before answering. "Let's conceal the car and go the rest of the way on foot." She cast the arm strap of her binoculars case over her shoulder and then took a deep breath as Cloud maneuvered the vehicle into a thicket, wincing and the dry branches scraped along the doors.

Together, they made quick work of placing brush over the hood and roof of the car before setting out on foot through the trees along the side of the gravel road. Emily picked her way through the foliage carefully, hoping that the drive didn't come to a fork. That would slow them down, and the sooner they could find where Deslando had gone, the better. Luckily, that wasn't the case.

About half a mile down the curving drive, the two come to two large brick pillars on either side of the thoroughfare, a sturdy iron gate spanned the distance between them. Atop each pillar was a large glass orb. Emily pointed up at them. "Cameras," she whispered. Cloud nodded. This was definitely promising.

Emily crouched down, brushing a vine of poison ivy away from her boot with a gloved hand. "This is the place, Cloud, I just know it," she whispered excitedly.

Cloud looked warily up at the curly iron gate. It stood at least twenty foot tall, a good three feet shorter than the wall that spread out from each side. "We're not getting in this way. Even if we could somehow turn off the cameras from the outside, this entrance is no doubt guarded in other ways too."

"Hm," Emily replied thoughtfully. She followed the wall with her eyes. To the right of the drive, it continued straight for a good distance. To the left, it ran straight until it turned sharply out of sight just short of a ravine. Pointing to the latter direction, she spoke. "Let's follow the wall this way. Maybe we can find a way in."

Cloud nodded and stood, offering his hand to help Emily to her feet.

The two continued on in silence as Emily scanned the fortification for a possible way in and Cloud surveyed the woods for unfriendly guests. All the trees that were along the wall were pruned far enough back so that one couldn't use a tree to scale its height. But Emily's excitement bubbled anew when she spotted an opening.

It was a circular hole near the base of the wall that allowed runoff from inside the fortress to flow out after a heavy rainfall. It was only three feet in diameter and was obstructed on either side by hardy bars. But bars, they could be cut through.

Emily immediately halted and spun on her heel, nearly colliding straight into Cloud. "Look!" she whispered eagerly, her arm extended out toward the drainage pipe. Cloud took a step closer and narrowed his eyes as he scanned for cameras. There were none.

"Well?" Emily queried, nearly shaking from enthusiasm.

"I don't like it," he replied with a shake of his blonde crested head.

"What? Why not? It's perfect." Emily's brows drew down in a frown and she looked up into his face with disdain.

Cloud shook his head again, taking Emily's shoulders in his hands. "That's what I don't like. Never trust a silver platter, Em." He glanced up to survey the wall again. It was quiet out there in the woods. Other than the occasional squawk of some bird or chirp of a cricket, there was nothing. No signs of human habitation what-so-ever. "Surely they wouldn't be so careless."

"I don't follow, Cloud."

"Darknation would know about this drain. We may not be able to see any form of protection here…but-"

"Don't give them too much credit, Cloud. Darknation is cocky." Emily looked away, her frown turning into a full on sneer. "They never thought we'd **find** this place, let alone attempt to storm it."

"There could be cameras on the inside."

Emily met Cloud's eyes again, determination evident on her face. "Then let me go in and see. I'm small enough; I could squeeze through if we took out one bar."

"No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean, I won't let you."

Emily tried to pull loose from Cloud's grip, but he just held on tighter.

"Look, I know you're ready to go in there and finish all of this now, but the rest of the Resistance doesn't even know where we are now. Come on, Em. You're smarter than this."

The young woman went rigid and then heaved a sigh. "I know you're right…it's just…"

"I know. They have my friends, remember?" He gave her shoulders an affirming squeeze and then dropped his hands back to his sides. "You should report in."

"Right." Emily dug through the pocket of her vest and pulled out her cell phone but hesitated before lifting it to her ear.

"What is it?" Cloud asked but Emily held a finger up to her lips and then pointed to her ear. She had heard something.

A slight gust of wind wound its way through the trees and Cloud concentrated to hear any sound other than the rattling of leaves in the breeze. He rotated his neck on his shoulders slowly; one hand instinctively going for Emily's the other going to the knife strapped to his thigh.

The wind hushed and all was still once more. "Huh," Emily let out a breath that she'd been holding. "Sorry…I just thought…"

"You have very sharp ears, Miss Bordeaux," a baritone voice quietly responded from behind them.

Cloud whirled around, his blade immediately out to silence their attacker. But it wasn't an attacker. It was Vincent Valentine.

"Dammit, Valentine," Cloud spat harshly, "Couldn't possibly announce yourself like a normal person!" He lowered his blade, but didn't put it away.

Emily let out a relieved chuckle. "You scared us!"

"My apologies," Vincent replied emotionlessly.

Cloud didn't think he looked apologetic at all. "Right. Where's Cid? Weren't you on a team with him?"

"I'm right here," the salty pilot called from further behind them. He was patting down the many pockets of his cargo pants. Not finding what he was searching for, he muttered a curse and looked around the ground below him.

"What is it, Cid?" Cloud asked with a sigh.

"Dropped my cigs," was the older man's reply as he turned around to scan the woods behind him.

"It's not a big deal, you can get some more later," Cloud said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, well that's not the issue," Cid turned back to them and doffed the black knapsack he was wearing, no small amount of distress evident in his voice. "I had my wallet rubber-banded to 'em so I wouldn't leave 'em behind."

Emily looked back and forth between her three companions. "Is it possible you didn't bring it with you at all?"

"No." She turned to look at Vincent. "Cid never forgets his cancer sticks." Emily could swear he was smirking.

Cid made a face. "Funny, Valentine. Now how's about you do something useful and hold this." He tossed his backpack to Vincent and then nodded to Cloud. "You wanna help me look, Blondie?"

Cloud sighed loudly and sheathed his knife. "Alright. Where'd you come from?"

Emily waited until the two blondes had retraced Cid's steps a ways and then approached Vincent, who was surveying the great expanse of wall blocking their way.

Clasping her hands behind her back, she stepped up beside him. "So what are you doing here?"

"Followed our man," he replied without looking at her.

"Ah." She shifted her weight awkwardly and then cleared her throat. "We, um, discovered this drain here." She pointed limply to the metal grate and then let her hand fall to her side. "I was thinking it might be a good way to get inside."

"Indeed."

Silence.

"Maybe you could help my bypass the grate?" Emily prodded, craning forward to get a look at his face.

"It's possible."

"Well…would you?"

Vincent finally looked down at her, his face a mask of indifference. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On how you intend to do so."

Emily sighed. "I was hoping you would have an idea."

"Ah," Vincent replied with a quirk of his left eyebrow. He then dropped the strap of Cid's bag from his shoulder and unzipped it. He reached inside, shuffling through the contents, and procured a small cutting torch. He held it up with a gloved hand. "Is this satisfactory?"

"That's perfect!" Emily tried hard to contain her excitement. Vincent nodded his understanding and then knelt down to inspect the metal bars blocking the drain. Emily squatted next to him.

He held down the lever and a short blue flame shot out the end of the tool. He then made a diagonal cut through the top of one of the bars, and then through its base. After the deed was done, he clicked the apparatus off and met her watching eyes. He gripped the bar, and pulled it loose before the metal had cooled, and leaned it against the foundation of the wall.

Emily whispered her thanks and reached into her pocket. Pulling out small flashlight, she shot a glance over her shoulder. Both Cloud and the pilot were still bust searching the undergrowth and were now quite a distance away. She turned back to Vincent.

"I should be small enough to slip through these bars pretty easily." She clicked on her flashlight with her thumb. "I'm going to see what's in there."

Vincent narrowed his eyes momentarily, but nodded just the same as he backed out of her way. "Call if you run into trouble."

"I will." Emily maneuvered onto her side, her arms over her head, and pushed her torso through the hole Vincent had made. After she was through to her hips, she put her flashlight between her lips and looked around.

It was dark inside the drainpipe, and wet. Emily pulled her body further into the concrete tube and wriggled forward. It was tight work, but doable. Placing her hand flat against the top of the passage, she illuminated the way before her. It went on for about twenty feet and then twisted upward, a small bit of light shining down.

"Alright," she whispered back to Vincent. "It seems safe. I'm going a bit farther." Not expecting a response, she got up on her hands and knees and crawled cautiously onward. The grime and mold in the bottom of the drain was slippery and rank. The walls were dirty and several times she caught sight of some insect scurrying along them.

As she neared the end of the road, the beam of her flashlight caught a glint in the middle of the tube. Reaching out, Emily felt her fingers brush something silky. _Spider web_, she grimaced. Using her gloved hand, she waved about until she had cleared the way of the stringy trap and continued one.

When she had reached the end of the tunnel, she poked her head out into the small opening and look up. There wasn't another grate, like she had expected, but instead, there was a metal cap. Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, Emily pulled herself into the bigger area and sat up on her knees, the top of her head brushing the cool metal cap above her. The circular metal piece was held off the ground by five evenly spaced four inch bars and Emily could see outside in all directions.

She was in an open area, with trees to her right, and the wall to her left. Between the trees, and in the distance, she could catch glimpses of a stone building. Biting her lip, she ducked back down. _This is it! We've finally found it after all these years!_

Excitement clutching at her heart and setting butterflies loose in her stomach, Emily started her journey back. They could come back with reinforcements in the night. They could no doubt make short work of the cap on the end just as Vincent had the grate! Things were beginning to look up.

--- O ---

No sooner than had Emily whispered back to him, Cloud and Cid approached Vincent's crouching form.

"You really should find a better place to put those," Cloud accused, his arms crossed over his chest once again.

Cid lifted a match and lit the fresh cigarette he had placed between his lips. "Yeah, yeah. I'll get right on it." He pulled the match away from his face and gave it a shake to put it out before tossing it into the brush. "Glad I dropped 'em in the dirt and not in that puddle."

"Hey, Valentine," Cloud asked curiously. "What are you doing down there?"

Vincent stood to meet Cloud's gaze. He much preferred being taller than the blonde to having him look down at him. "Waiting," he replied.

"Well, we're here now," Cid said, reaching out to take his gear pack back. "Wait, why is this open?"

Cloud glanced at Cid, then at Vincent, then his eyes shot down to the drain. His aqua eyes widened slightly as he took in the missing bar and then quickly scanned the immediate area. "Valentine," he began, his jaw set. "Where's Emily?"

Vincent was about to reply, "_Haven't you already reached your own conclusion?"_ but he didn't have to. Just moments later, Emily stuck her auburn crested head out of the end of the drain. "I found a way in! It's perfect! Oh, Cloud, you're back." She climbed out the rest of the way and dusted off her hands on her pant legs. "Did you find Cid's wallet?"

Cid patted his back pocket and smiled. "Yup. Safe and sound, little missy."

Cloud, however, was not smiling. "What were you doing?"

Taken aback by his harsh tone, Emily replied, "Vincent cut the bar so I could go inside."

Cloud shot a glare at Vincent before scowling back at Emily. "After I already told you it was too dangerous?"

"But it wasn't," she argued. "I was just fine. I even found out that this is the perfect way in."

Cloud took a step forward, causing Emily to take a step back. "That doesn't matter! You didn't **know** it would be alright! What if you'd been caught?"

"But I wasn't." Emily sighed and reached out to lay a hand on Cloud's arm, but he shook her off.

"That's not the point!"

Vincent watched the scene begin to unfold before him and shot a warning glance to Cid, who was caught between looking amused, and looking frightened. The pilot caught the hint and stepped forward.

"Well, hey. S'not important right now, anyway. Ya'll should call this in so that we can get back to the-"

"No, it is important!" Cloud interrupted, his eyes flicking wildly to Cid and then back to an increasingly incredulous Emily. "I distinctly told you I didn't want you to go in there!"

Emily's face reddened and she bit her lip to try to keep from saying what she really wanted to say. "Cid's right, though. We need to check in."

Feeling that things had escalated far enough, Vincent stepped forward and placed a warning hand on Cloud's shoulder. "You need to settle down, Strife."

Cloud whirled around and knock Vincent's hand away. "Don't tell me what **I** need to do, Valentine," he spat irately. "Surely you saw how potentially dangerous this was!?"

Vincent remained cool, but for the twitching at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, but such a time would call for such risks."

The blonde laughed humorlessly. "And you would know all about putting others at risk, wouldn't you, Valentine? No doubt Tifa could tell me all about it!"

His tone was even, but the dangerous edge did not go unnoticed. "Do not make the mistake in thinking that any of this is about you, Cloud. And leave Tifa out of this."

Without breaking his scorching eye contact, Vincent reached into his pocket pulled out his cell phone. He passed it to Emily. "Call the others."

Emily took the phone from him cautiously, as though it would explode in her hands, but the she turned away to put in the call to Andrew and Aiden.

"So that's how it's going to be, then?" Cloud said more quietly, but with none of his former spite lost. "You giving the orders? That right, because Vincent knows best, doesn't he."

Vincent blinked, but never left Cloud's heated gaze with his own.

This time, Cid stepped forward between the two, having had more than enough tension for one day. "Shit, why don't you two just whip it out and measure it already?"

This earned glares from both of them, but he continues anyway. "This ain't the time nor the place to be getting' in a spat, so you," he pointed tersely at Cloud. "Shut the hell up! And you," he pointed just as fervently at Vincent. "Stop bein' so damn creepy!"

Cloud opened his mouth to retort to the pilot when Emily suddenly ran up, her face awash with worry and rage. "We have a huge problem," she puffed, trying to catch her breath. "Darknation besieged the base! Everyone's either fled or been killed!"

That stopped the three men dead in their tracks.

--- O ---

**So how was that? Did you enjoy it? Did you hate it? Let me know! Reading is great, but I'd really like it if you would drop a review on the way out, even if it's just to say "HI!"**

**A great, big, special thank you to ChildofFate17, Valentinesbullet, Shtit, Uchiha Lolita, Ghedea, and Phantom-of-the-Opry for their lovely feedback and praise. Love you guys!**

**Thank you as well to all of my subscribers, readers, and favers. All of you make it so that a procrastinator like me has a reason to keep going!**

**Thank you to Kimmit the Ferg and P. Batman Owen for Beta-ing. Your feedback and support is greatly appreciated.**

**Okay, so I'm done for now. Now that I'm past this hideous writers' block, I should be able to pump out the next chapter fairly soon.**

**But I won't make any promises. .**

**Take care, and God bless!**

**Fight the Power!**

**--Illusion of the Mirror--**

9


	24. Refugees

**Salutations, and welcome back! Somehow I have managed to compose this next installment in spite of transferring from Community college to University, working, and spending the holidays with family. Thank you all for your patience. I hope it is rewarded by this chapter. You know, the longer I write, the more I realize that writing a long story like this is hard work! Consistency is tough!**

**Regardless, I have updated, so without further ado:**

Refugees

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"Son of a bitch…" It was all the veteran pilot could manage, his unlit cigarette dropping from downturned lips. And it was not an at all inappropriate sentiment to describe the grisly scene before the rag-tag group of fighters that had only just arrived.

Vincent's stunned gaze swept the pandemonium. When the young Ms. Bordeaux had so abruptly informed them of an attack on the Resistance base, he had expected to rush back find the stark white halls of the underground construction lined with Darknation guards, one of the rooms full of hostages, perhaps even bodies strewn on the floor of the empty hangar. But no imaginings on his part had even come close to reality.

From their vantage point of the hill overlooking the western edge of the city, Vincent took in the abysmal rubble that cracked and smoldered the entire area of where the subterranean station had been. It was obvious what had occurred: strategically placed explosives had weakened the structure, most likely taking out key supports, and caved the entire site in. This, in turn, had caused the surface buildings to crumble and collapse into the newly created crater. Underground pipes and electrical systems had become exposed, asphalt and concrete roads had buckled and given way, and all the people who had been working, driving, or shopping had fallen victim to a hideous plan that never even concerned them.

Beside him, Ms. Bordeaux steadied herself on a telephone post, gasping for breath, and Vincent's mind suddenly resounded with only one thought: _Tifa_.

Not wasting another precious second, Vincent stalked down the grass and dust covered hill, purpose in his eyes. _Tifa_. Pace quickening and heart thudding, he approached the edge of the carnage, dodging a rescue team working to extinguish an unruly electrical fire. He scanned the debris fervently, the acrid air burning its way through his nostrils and into his lungs. If his calculations were correct, he shouldn't be too far from the exact spot where he had reluctantly said goodbye to the woman he loved not twelve hours ago. _Tifa…_

Concrete buildings loomed on either side of him, their inner rooms ripped open and exposed to the world like the organs of a dissected frog. Stepping sharply to his left to avoid an overturned and splintered desk, Vincent caught sight of something bright blue before him. Climbing over a papered section of wall, he drew closer, but halted as soon as he identified the source; a torn, blood-stained shred of linen dangling from a dirty limb that jutted out from under a fallen filing cabinet, fingers lifelessly scraping the ground.

Immediately, he spun on his heel, eyes stinging from the swirling dust clouds and compounding emotion that was fighting its way up his throat. He hastily started in the opposite direction, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, unsure of what he planned to accomplish. He longed to cry out Tifa's name, to call her forth from the hopeless ruble unharmed and alive, yet his logic prevailed. If she were still in the area, it was highly improbable that Tifa was in any state to speak or call back. The rebellious part of him settled to whisper her name, this throat clogging like with cotton. "Tifa…"

It was then that Vincent realized he had stopped, his hands balled into tight fists, eyes downcast. He had no idea what to do next and had managed to completely lose himself amongst the chaos. Frustrated at his own lack of control and inability to compose his racing thoughts, he raised a hand to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut. _I must remain calm…I am no good to anyone if I lose composure…remain calm…_

A hand clapped on his shoulder, startling him from his meditation and Vincent whirled around, eyes blazing, his pistol instinctively in hand.

"Whoa!" Cid threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Cool your jets, it's jus' me!"

A fraction of a second later, the pistol was back in its shoulder holster, and Vincent tamed his face into its usual mask of indifference.

Cid frowned, the action carving deep lines into his weathered face. "This is **some** shit we stepped in." He ruffled a hand through his short blonde hair. "They've gone and blown everything to hell."

Vincent shifted his weight and peered out from between the two mounds of concrete blocking the view to the left. The space beyond was teeming with rescue personal hurriedly digging out survivors, and cadavers alike, and rushing them off on stretchers. He still couldn't banish the lump in his throat, so he opted for a nod of comprehension.

"And what for? I mean, they coulda jus' taken hostages or killed the rebels, not these innocent bystanders." Cid's voice dropped, brows shadowing his eyes. "This is low. Even for Darknation."

"Perhaps they are truly desperate."

"Ya think so?" Cid looked contemplative. "I guess that's to only logical- HOLY SHIT!"

Both men's eyes flew down to Cid's ankle, where a dusty, blood-stained hand gripped his ripped pant leg. A man lay on his stomach, his right shoulder and down pinned beneath a toppled catering truck.

"Hey, don't suppose I could bother you gents for a hand," the man rasped, a deep cough rattling his body as he released his grip on Cid's clothing.

Cid stepped back, and then promptly began looking for a way to lever the truck off of the wounded man. Vincent knelt down a faint spark of recognition going off in his mind. "You're part of the Resistance," he stated and the man gave a pained nod.

"Guilty."

At that moment, Vincent felt another presence behind him and Emily knelt at his side. "Dean," she whispered, a hand resting on the fallen man's crown. "Just hold on, we'll find a way to get you out."

Turning his head slightly, Vincent spotted Cloud in his peripheral. The blonde was leaning against a concrete boulder, his eyes closed.

"No," Dean Preston coughed. "Even if you could get this-" a wheeze "-damned thing offa me…that's it."

Cid, who had fully circled the van, returned to the now expanded group, giving Cloud a nod of greeting before crouching down on Vincent's other side. He merely shook his head, his hand instinctively going to the nearly empty packet behind his goggles.

"Don't say that," Emily choked, tears brimming in her eyes. "You need to try."

This was unnecessary. Vincent realized the girl was clinging to a false hope, and they needed information before the man passed on. "Where are the others?"

Emily looked up at him, her expression upset. _Ah well, it is to be expected_.

Dean wheezed, his upper body releasing the tell-tale hiss of a sucking chest wound. "Alex…he took them to the woods…survivors…"

Emily continued to stroke the dying man's hair. "So there were survivors?"

"Yeah…"

Vincent cleared his throat, indicating he wasn't finished. "What about Tifa? Did you see Denzel or Tifa?"

Wheezing…a cough… "I saw the girl…fighting…but not after…" After a hiccupping gasp, Dean lifted his pale eyes to Emily, his free hand searching for hers. "Emmy, tell my kids…tell Benji…and Amelia…"

Emily nodded, tears spilling unhindered down her cheeks, leaving streaks in the layer of dust on her face. "I will, Dean. I will."

With one last trembling cough, Dean Preston breathed his last and was no more. His limp hand fell from Emily's into the dirt.

Dropping her face into her hands, Emily began to let sobs rack her small frame. Vincent stood. The woods. Tifa was in the woods.

--- O ---

But Tifa was not in the woods. When she, Denzel, and Luna Bordeaux had fled from the hangar, they had headed up one of the exit shafts leading out into an old churchyard. The three escapees had emerged into the overcast day, blinking in the light after their pitch-black trek up the corridor.

At first, Tifa had no clue where to go or what they should do next. What she did know is that she had two very shaken children that needed food and rest and a deep gash in her arm that had yet to stop bleeding. The light brought her headache back in full force…multiplied by ten.

But after resting a short period, their backs against a marble sepulcher in the middle of the church's graveyard, Tifa spotted a familiar bell-tower down the block. Wrapping her injured arm in her jacket, she gathered the children and set off toward the college. Surely, someone there would help.

--- O ---

Tifa walked down the bustling halls of the college, her arm tucked up against her chest and the two kids in tow. Was it really a school day? She realized she had completely lost track of what day it was. Head injuries will do that to you.

Denzel had approached the history department head secretary and asked to see Professor Altmann or Professor Stratford. The tightly-dressed woman had replied by saying that both were out for the day and all classes had been cancelled. There was little wonder why that was. So now Tifa was walking toward what she supposed was the cafeteria in order to find something for the three of them to eat. But she was intercepted as she turned a corner by a familiar face.

"Oh! Miss Lockheart, what a pleasant surprise." Professor Malcolm had nearly collided with the distracted brunette. He shifted his full lunch tray to one side and eyed the three up and down. "Is…something the matter?"

Tifa's eyes shot to the children, who were looking to her with expectancy and then back to the professor. His gaze slid down to her arm wrapped in a blood-stained jacket. His rich, indigo eyes glinted and he motioned for her to follow. "Come with me."

Tifa let Denzel and Luna pass in front of her before following Malcolm and noticed that the young blonde was nervously gripping Denzel's sleeve as they walked. A thin smile graced Tifa's lips. Perhaps they would be friends after all.

Moments later, Malcolm opened the door into his office and bade them enter. Setting his tray on an immaculate coffee table, he turned back to shut the heavy, wooden door behind them.

"No meaning to seem rude, Miss Lockheart," he said, crossing to a miniature fridge and pulling out three bottles of spring water, "but you appear to be in some sort of…distress." He handed one of the cold bottles to each of them and Tifa immediately snapped the cap free and took a large, refreshing swig.

"Not at all, Professor," she replied with a wince as she shifted her arm to her side. "Thank you."

The professor glanced down at her limb, and then turned to Denzel and Luna. "I have some apples in the fridge and granola in the cupboard. Please help yourself."

The two children looked at each other. Luna seemed incredibly skeptical about the whole ordeal, but Denzel grabbed her hand and led her across the room to the cupboard.

Once they were out of the immediate vicinity, Malcolm approached Tifa. "Now how about you show me that arm of yours?"

Tifa blanched. "Oh, no, it's nothing, I just-"

Malcolm reached out and took hold of the injured limb and carefully unwrapped as Tifa shifted her weight uncomfortably. Once exposed, she could see that the skin around the gash was now purple and swollen; pus was oozing from the center of the wound. Malcolm's brows drew together in concern. "Hardly, Miss Lockheart. This is what we experts like to call **infected**."

Patiently, the older man drew Tifa toward a shelf in the corner of the room and turned from her to open a small chest. When he spun back around, he held small gold-green orb in his hand that Tifa instantly recognized. "Heal Materia? You…you know how to use materia?"

Malcolm chuckled, a not particularly pleasant sound. "As a professor of the planet's history, I know my fair share about Mako and the uses of it." He pulled a black glove onto his left hand and slid the orb into a slot on the back. "Now, if you'll allow me, I'll heal your injury."

Tifa stood completely still as she was enveloped by a familiar warm glow. A tingling sensation budded inside her bones and her eyes slipped shut as she felt her skin regenerate and close, even her headache was subsiding.

Finished, Malcolm slid the glove from his hand and placed it back into the chest while Tifa examined her now healed arm with relative amazement. "Thank you so much, Professor Malcolm," she smiled, looking into his dark eyes. "You really didn't have to go to all this trouble for us."

"Didn't I?" The professor turned from her and retrieved his tray before taking his place in the chair behind his desk. Tifa saw Denzel and Luna sitting cross-legged on the floor eating slowly and watching everything that transpired between the two adults. She sunk into one of the chairs opposite his desk.

Malcolm went to pick up his sandwich, but then seemed to change his mind and instead steepled his hands in front of his lips, his hard gaze locking on Tifa. "I notice you have a different young lady in your company this time."

Tifa nodded, her fingers absently picking at the skin where her wound once was. "Yes. Marlene is…at a friend's house. This is Luna. "

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "She is also yours?"

"Oh no," Tifa laughed nervously. "No, Luna is a friend of Denzel's."

He turned to the young blonde and beckoned to her. "You look an awful lot like a young lady I have in class. Pray, what is your full name?"

Luna swallowed her mouthful of apple and squared her shoulders. "It's Lunetta Bordeaux, sir. But my older sister doesn't go to school here."

If she hadn't been studying his face, Tifa wouldn't have seen Malcolm's eye twitch ever-so-slightly.

"Hm…well, nevermind then. I apologize for the confusion." The professor picked up his sandwich and took a large bite. As he chewed, he studied the back of his hand. To Tifa, the silence was anything but comfortable. Then, as she was just about to break into the quiet with some trivial anecdote about the weather, the clock on Malcolm's desk chimed the hour.

He looked up, eyes a bit wider. "Oh my, that time already? Forgive me, Miss Lockheart, but I have a class shortly."

Tifa nodded her understanding and stood in unison with the professor. She reached across the desk and shook his hand. "Thanks again for all your help."

Professor Malcolm smiled, showing a row of perfectly white teeth. "You are most welcome."

As he rounded the desk to bid goodbye to the children, Tifa glanced down at the professor's desk. It was very neat and very much unlike Alexander Altmann's office had been, but there was an open letter lying on the desk. It was addressed to Dr. Sebastian K. Malcolm.

"Ahem," the man cleared his throat and Tifa spun around wide eyed. He gestured toward the door. "If you would."

Tifa apologized for "spacing off" and left the office, the door shutting smartly behind her. She could feel that her face was hot with a blush. For some reason…it felt as though she had seen something she shouldn't have.

Denzel lightly tapped Tifa's arm as they neared the street exit. "So…um, what do we do now, Tifa?"

She looked down into his eager eyes and gave a smile she hoped was reassuring. "Let's go home."

--- O ---

The "woods" to which Dean Preston had referred was actually the very forest near Tifa's house and late restaurant. When Vincent, Cid, Cloud, and Emily had arrived, they were greeted by a pair of camouflaged, gun-toting guards and then led into the inner camp. Immediately, Emily broke off to find her family with Cloud on her heels. Cid turned to Vincent, arms crossed.

"Maybe we should split up and look for the others." There was a tremor of worry and fatigue in the pilot's words, but Vincent chose not to address it. He merely nodded his assent and then set out to find Tifa.

But Red XIII found him first. "Greetings, comrade," the large cat-like creature called out to him. Leaping down from his seat on a large boulder, Red approached quickly. "Any news?"

Vincent let out a nearly undetectable sigh. "I was hoping to hear news from you."

"Well, Barret and I found nothing while on our mission today." He cocked his head to one side and let loose a low growl. "Darknation did quite a number on the base of operations."

"So we saw."

"Oh?" Nanaki looked up with curiosity in his eye. "You were there?"

"Only after the fact."

"Hm. Well, you're here now. That's what matters. Where's Cid?"

Vincent scanned the vicinity for any sign of Tifa. "He is searching for the others."

Red sat back on his haunches, blowing a strand of his unruly red mane from his eyes. "Barret is around here somewhere, but I haven't seen hide nor hair of Tifa or the young one."

"…I see."

There was a pregnant pause. "I'm worried about them too, Vincent," Nanaki sighed. "But Tifa's strong and so is the boy. Professor Altmann seems to be under the impression that they escaped with Emily Bordeaux's younger sister. If that's the case, all we have to do is wait." As an afterthought, he added, "they'll be here soon."

--- O ---

"What do you mean, no?!"

James Bordeaux tried to calm his irate daughter. "It's too dangerous. We have to wait and regroup before we attempt any kind of-"

"But that's what Darknation expects us to do! If we attack now, they won't be prepared to fend us off!"

James rubbed his throbbing temple. She had inherited her mother's stubborn streak. "With what men, Emily? Right now we are stuck licking our wounds, without proper shelter or medical facilities, I might add."

Emily crossed her arms, attempting to be level-headed but knowing that she was failing miserably. When it came to Darknation, she just couldn't remain calm. "What about Tifa's friends? Are we to condemn them to whatever fate those bastards can think up?"

"It is regrettable that we cannot aid them at this time," James sighed. "But we cannot risk any more lives."

"You mean, you WILL not! We can still fight, but you will not see it! You refuse to! You would have us cower with our tail between our legs when the time to act is now!"

Irritated and quickly growing tired of this conversation, James' voice was even, but severe. "Don't allow your personal issues to cloud your judgment, Emily. We all have sacrificed. It's time to realize that this isn't all about you and your grudge."

The young woman was speechless. Her mouth opened and closed in shock before rage flooded her face and she stormed out of the council's tent, fuming past a waiting Cloud.

"Em, slow down!" He reached out and gripped her shoulder, turning her to face him. This wasn't the Emily he knew and loved. This woman was bitter and angry. For a second, he flinched, but then drew her into a tight embrace. "It's gonna be okay. Just roll with the punches."

She had all sorts of retorts prepared: 'You don't know it's going to be okay!' or 'Easy for you to say, you didn't just watch a friend die!' But instead, Emily just closed her eyes and leaned into Cloud's arms. The truth was, he didn't know what she had lost, but in all fairness, she hadn't told him.

"Um…excuse me…"

Both lovers turned to look at a slender young man with sandy blonde hair and big brown eyes. Cloud raised an eyebrow in recognition. "Hey, aren't you one of the kids that works…er, worked at Tifa's bar?"

"Yeah," the young man answered as he adjusted the elaborate headphones resting around his neck. "My name is Keaton."

Emily broke free of Cloud's embrace, eyeing Keaton with suspicion. "I don't recall you being part of our organization."

Keaton smiled nervously and shifted his feet. "I'm not, technically. But I am sympathetic to your cause." He gestured to the apparatus around his neck. "I'm here to help man the radio system so the others are free to do other jobs. I think I met your dad."

At the mention of her father, Emily felt hot ire building inside her. "Oh?"

"Yeah, he's the one that hired-er-let me volunteer."

Cloud was unimpressed. "Uh-huh…" He looked around and spotted Barret not too far away. "Hey, look, Em, I'm going to go talk to Barret. I'll be back, okay?" With that, he slid away, leaving Emily and Keaton alone.

"Um, you ARE Emily Bordeaux, right?"

"Yes."

Keaton glanced over his shoulder and then leaned in closer to the petite redhead. "I have something you'll want to see."

Without another word, the blonde turned around and walked off toward the radio tent. Emily followed, mildly curious as to what the young man was referring. When she had entered the tent behind him, Keaton turned from the desk he was studying and passed her a piece of paper.

"I intercepted this message not five minutes ago and wrote it down. It mentioned you by name."

_We have the young Miss Bordeaux in custody._

"This…who sent this?"

Keaton took the paper back and folded it. "It wasn't sent TO me, per se. I actually picked it up on a different wave. I think it may have been from…"

"Darknation," Emily spat. "But this couldn't be about me…Luna!"

Keaton glanced up from the note in his hand. "What?"

"My little sister! They…they've captured her!"

The wiry blond looked alarmed. "Do…do you really think so?"

Emily spun around to leave. She would go see the council and tell her…wait. No, that would be no good. Her father was always cool and collected. He wouldn't risk it even if his own daughter were on the line. Her only hope was Cloud and his friends.

Rushing from the tent, Emily jogged up to Cloud, who was now leaning against a tree with his eyes closed. "Cloud," she whispered as shook his shoulder. "We have an emergency!"

The blonde ex-soldier's eyes popped open. "Emergency? What is it, Em?"

"Luna's been captured by Darknation!"

Cloud's brows dipped down in a frown. "How do you know that?"

"The guy from the radio tent got a message. They have my baby sister, Cloud!"

"Calm down. What exactly do you propose we do?"

Emily's green eyes flashed. "We have to go rescue her. We have to go back to Darknation's stronghold. We know how to get in now. We can go get her and your friends!"

Cloud placed his hands on Emily's shoulders and gazed into her hopeful eyes. "I don't know, Em. Did you talk to your dad yet?"

The young woman snorted. "He won't approve. You heard what he said earlier."

Knowing that his next words would most likely be ill-received, Cloud tried not to winch as he spoke. "Maybe there's a good reason for that, Em. I mean, it could be a trap."

Indignace laced through her words. "But what if it's not? I can feel it in my bones, Cloud. Luna's in real danger…and I can't stand by and do nothing. Please," she added, softening her voice, "help me."

Cloud shook his head. "Look, Em. I understand why you want to rush in and save your sister, really, I do. But I also understand that for some reason, when it comes to Darknation, you just can't seem to think rationally. Don't get mad, I'm not meaning to offend you." He searched her eyes for any sign of resignation. "But I love you, Em. Don't put yourself into unneeded danger, okay? Promise me?"

Emily looked down at Cloud's warm hand on her shoulder and then up into his sincere blue-green eyes. "Okay," she sighed and let him pull her into an embrace.

But Emily Bordeaux had no intention of keeping her promise.

--- O ---

**So! How was it? REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!! Really, it's my bread and butter.**

**On a side note, I realized a while ago that I could monitor where my readers are from, so for this chapter, I would like to make a shout-out to all my readers from **_**AUSTRALIA, GERMANY, and IRELAND.**_** Hooray for going global!**

**Thank you to Uchiha Lolita, Ghedea, Forevermare, wolf of infinity, Shtit, nanimo, and my newest reader, brokenmaelstrom for your lovely feedback.**

**Also, thank you, once again, to all of you who have read, faved, and subscribed. I love you all!**

**Thank you to Kimmit the Ferg for continuing to kick my butt into gear when it comes to getting this story written and for your continued support in my exploits.**

**So in closing, I'll be back, ya'll!**

**Fight the Power!**

**-- Illusion of the Mirror --**

10


	25. Judas' Kiss

**WARNING: The following chapter includes Vintif moments and Cloud-bashing action! You asked for it, so here it is!**

**Aren't I a stinker?**

Judas' Kiss

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Darkness had settled over the forest, its icy fingertips threading through the trees and goading the surviving members of the resistance into lighting small fires all around their camp to keep warm. An unsettling breeze rattled pots and pans and caused tents and drying bandages to flap in the wind. The rising moon was full and golden in the cloud-specked sky, its light filtering down through the canopy of leaves in ghostly beams.

Emily Bordeaux sat quietly just outside of one of the rings of firelight, her back against a tree and a heavy woven blanket draped over her slumped shoulders. Night had come quickly, leaving her feeling lost and alone as she listened to the hooting of a nearby owl and the low hum of the comrades standing around the fire.

It was here that Keaton Niles found the young woman and he approached with his usual tenuous manner. "Miss Bordeaux," he began quietly, waiting for her eyes to meet his before squatting down next to her on the earthen floor. "I've no intention to pry, but it seems an odd time to be sitting alone."

Emily sniffed loudly, turning her eyes back to the two boys she had been watching roast hot dogs on over the fire. There was an awkward silence for a few beats. Keaton took a breath and tried again. "I take it no one believed you."

He was met, once again, with silence.

"Your anger is understandable…but I came over to tell you there might be a way to save your little sister."

The glowering red-head cut her eyes to his and lowered her eyebrows as if to say, "I'm listening."

Taking the invitation, Keaton situated himself to a sitting position next to her. "I overheard you talking to your friends." He glanced over at Emily to see if she would object, but she did not, so he continued. "I know why he said what he did…but I also know that if MY little sister had been kidnapped, I wouldn't want to sit around and wait for the higher-ups to do something."

Haltingly, Keaton raised a hand and lightly placed it on Emily's shoulder in a gesture of companionship. She glanced at his long, slender fingers as they twitched at the contact and then met his eyes. "You have a sister?"

Keaton nodded slowly. "Yeah…but I don't get to see her often. She lives with my mother in Costa Del Sol."

"I see."

Clearing his throat and pulling his hand back to himself, Keaton started again, changing the subject. "Um…I know that it's dangerous to attempt a rescue, but, like you said, we don't have time to waste. So I…I've gotten together a group of guys who will go with us to rescue your sister."

That brought Emily out of her purposeful silence. "What?"

The young man fidgeted with his coat sleeve, not meeting Emily's eager gaze. "They're a strong bunch…and they're willing to leave tonight, if that's what you want."

Emily shifted her position until she was looking straight into Keaton's face, her back to the glowing fire. "You mean, you'll help me? You're willing to risk your life to save my sister?"

A nod. "I know you'd do the same for me."

She thought on that a moment. It's true, Emily had always been one to follow her heart and help someone in need. She was grateful to this young man for seeing this. "But why? You don't even know me? How do I know I can trust you?" she asked with nothing but faint hope in her voice.

"You don't," the blonde replied, his brown, glassy eyes reflecting the fire back at her. "But…I know what it's like to be afraid for your sister and I don't want anyone else to feel that pain."

Emily could almost swear she saw a single tear spill from the corner of his eye. Reaching out, she took hold of his hand and cradled it in both of her smaller ones. "Thank you, Keaton. I won't ever forget this."

He blushed and his fingers trembled between hers. "We can leave whenever you're ready."

Emily stood and helped pull her new-found comrade to his feet even though he was a good foot taller than her. "Give me five minutes."

--- O ---

The grinding of Tifa's key as it turned the lock of the back entrance to her house seemed deafening to her ears in the silent twilight. When the deadbolt clicked open, she quickly pushed the door ajar and stepped inside, flipping on the kitchen light as Denzel and Luna squeezed past her. "Well, here we are," she sighed, setting her keys on the counter. "Home, sweet home."

Luna scanned the kitchen, her exhaustion evident on her face. "It's nice," she offered in what Tifa supposed was meant to be a congenial way.

Tifa crossed to the fridge and pulled out two cans of orange soda, Marlene's favorite, and set them on the breakfast table. "Here. There's a bathroom out the doorway and down the hall if you want to wash up. And I think we have some ramen in the cupboard. I'm going upstairs real quick to change and grab some Neosporin and Band-Aids for you guys' cuts."

Denzel nodded his assent and watched Tifa leave the room, her dark hair completely fallen from its hair-tie and swishing as she walked.

He turned to Luna, who was no longer at his side, but had ventured out into the front room and turned on the overhead lights. She fiddled with one of the ceramic fairy statues in Tifa's china hutch. He approached and handed her a can of orange soda. "They're pretty, huh?"

Luna gave a wan smile and picked up one of the delicate figurines. It had creamy skin and green glass wings; a harp rested in the crook of its arm. "Yeah," she mused. "I think I like this one best." She stroked its shiny gold locks.

Denzel popped the tab of his soda and took a sip before leaning his back against the mahogany hutch. "Mm…that one is Marlene's favorite, too."

The young blonde bit her lip and set the fairy back in its respective place. "Oh." She turned around and leaned next to him, opening her own soda. "So she's your sister, right?"

"Sort of," Denzel sighed. "We're both adopted…so it's not a blood thing. But I guess I've always seen her as my little sister."

Luna hummed as she gulped down some soda. "Well, little sisters are pretty awesome." She giggled at Denzel's raised eyebrows and playfully punched his shoulder causing orange fizz to slosh out of the can and onto his shirt.

The girl gasped, mortification etched in her face, but Denzel set his can down and gesticulated dramatically. "How on EARTH am I ever going to get this out?" He stroked his already stained and ripped T-shirt. "This is authentic silk, you know! Very expensive and rare!"

Luna giggled again and mimicked his eccentric accent. "I'm sorry DAH-ling, I shall have my servants wash it immediately."

Both children laughed at their ridiculous expressions and then sat on cross-legged on the floor. "You're alright, Mr. Serious," Luna hummed as she wiped a tear from her eye. "I had you all wrong."

Denzel was about to reply and say that she wasn't entirely wrong about him, when there was a loud thud from upstairs and the crash and tinkle of broken glass. Someone gave a muffled cry and Denzel leapt to his feet, already fearing that something horrible had happened to Tifa.

--- O ---

After climbing the stairs, Tifa had flicked on the hall light before venturing into the bathroom. She ran the tap until it was warm and steaming and splashed her face before scrubbing it down with a soapy rag. _Aaaaah…that's the stuff._ Fully refreshed and feeling a bit less grimy, she left the bathroom but paused before going any further. Just down the hallway, she could see the open door of the room Denzel and Marlene stayed in. She drew near quietly, as if they were sleeping beyond the threshold.

Peering in, Tifa saw the empty, still-made beds awash in moonlight and felt a rift split through her heart. She ached for Marlene and Shera, who were still somewhere in the evil clutches of Darknation. She ached for Barret and Cid, especially Cid. Shera was nearly nine months pregnant, yet the salty pilot kept so calm…well, as calm as Cid ever was. He must really be broken-up on the inside.

A soft breeze tickled the hairs on her arms and Tifa shivered, rubbing the heat back into her skin. And Barret…he must be so worried about…_wait a minute! There's no wind INSIDE the house!_

Crossing to the window, Tifa threw back the bowing, cracked curtains and to her horror, the window was wide open, the screen missing. She went rigid, listening for any out-of-place noises. There were crickets outside…an owl…the children talking downstairs…and the familiar scrape of her dresser drawers as they slid open and closed. Someone was in the house.

Tifa was at her bedroom door in a flash, her ear pressed up against the solid wood. Whoever was in there, was now rifling through her closet. Slowly, so as to make no noise, Tifa turned the knob and then steeled herself. From the faint light coming out under the crack beneath the door, she could tell that her bedside lamp was on…she saw a shadow pass in front of the light. Calculating the sound of shuffling feet, Tifa surmised that the intruder was now at her chest of drawers again, their back to her. This was her chance.

Flinging the door open with a bang, Tifa flew into the room, her arm immediately around the throat of the trespasser. They struggled and grunted, knocking a vase of dead daisies off the vanity and it crashed to the floor. The imposter moaned, their air cut off from Tifa's stranglehold, and then brought their elbow back hard into Tifa's gut. Tifa's grip loosened as she tried to regain her breath, but before she could bring her leg up to hold the interloper in place, they wheezed, "Tifa, it's me! Yuffie!"

No sooner than Tifa had relinquished her hold, Denzel and Luna came bursting into the room. Yuffie held up a finger and bent over, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "Sorry…didn't mean to startle you…thought I was alone…"

The female ninja stood up, her face red from exertion. "I was just here to borrow some clothes, I mean; I've been wearing these for like, ever!" She looked down at the limp folds of fabric around her chest. "But I seem to be lacking in the boob area. Seriously, Tif, I feel like a pre-pubescent boy compared to you!"

Tifa let herself release a hearty laugh and then threw her arms around her friend. "Oh, Yuffie! I've never been so happy to catch you stealing my stuff!"

--- O ---

It had been surprising to Tifa that the Resistance would build their camp so close to Marie's old house, but then again, everything these people did seemed to go back the woman in some way. As they thread their way through the underbrush, Tifa caught glimpses of several fires between the trees. Somewhere in that camp, her friends were waiting for her; Vincent was waiting for her. She felt a horde of butterflies erupt in her chest. _At least, I hope they're waiting for me…_

Once past the armed guard, the tired group stepped into the camp. There were tents on all sides and all manner of gear strewn about in organized chaos. People bustled to and fro, but all Tifa could see were her friends sitting by the fire opposite her, their bodies silhouetted by the blaze.

"Hey, you guys!" Yuffie called out, waving her arm above her head. With her other hand she adjusted the long-sleeved black turtleneck she had "borrowed" from Marlene's drawer. She had not been happy about that.

All three men, four if you count Nanaki, turned to look at them and Denzel hurried forward to hug his father. Barret embraced the boy tightly, his large hand resting on the boy's head. Luna smiled and then broke away to find her own family.

But all of this was barely noticed by Tifa, whose eyes were immediately captured by Vincent's. She didn't realize that as he slowly rose and approached her, she had completely frozen, her heart hammering behind her ribs.

Even as he stopped inches from her, his gaze never strayed from hers. Seconds ticked by as they both stood completely still except for the quick rise and fall of their chests. And then, suddenly, Vincent's lips were on hers, his warm hand wresting in her hair. Tifa's eyes snapped closed and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her face tilted up to grant him easier access.

This kiss was not like before. It was all emotion and longing, fear and desperation. Tifa abruptly felt as though she would never be complete again unless she was with this man, this man that she loved. Vincent's lips were fervent on hers, but not demanding, as his hand massaged her scalp and Tifa let her fingers trail his cheeks and chin, the other hand twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck. Then, as the need for air between them was great, he pulled away, his arms still about her.

Tifa gazed up into his hooded, crimson eyes, her lips swollen and her cheeks tinged pink.

"Hey, you," she smiled, nudging his nose with her own.

"Hello."

She ran her finger along his perfect jaw line and drank in his scent. His heart was racing in unison with hers, and as his eyes fell closed, his dark lashes feathered out over his cheek. Tifa couldn't think of anything more beautiful on the whole planet. "I missed you," she crooned, leaning into his arms and resting her head on his chest.

Vincent placed his chin protectively atop her head and breathed in the smell of her hair.

"I missed you, too."

--- O ---

Across the camp, someone else was having a reunion of their own. On her way to find her family, Luna Bordeaux had run strait into Cloud.

"Oh, hello, Cloud Strife," she gasped excitedly. "You haven't seen my mom or dad, have you?"

"Uh…" That was all that Cloud had said, his mouth hanging open and his blue eyes wide, but it was definitely not what he was thinking. _What the hell is Luna doing here?! Wasn't she kidnapped?!_

Looking past the sputtering adult, Luna spotted her query. "Nevermind!" She waved as she skipped off in her parents' direction.

Cloud followed the young girl with his eyes, the young girl who was definitely NOT captured, and in his mind sirens blared. Quick as a flash, the ex-soldier bolted toward the radio tent, finding only one man inside. He asked about the kid that worked for Tifa, but the man didn't even know him. Thoroughly vexed, Cloud set out to find Emily even though he suspected that she was no longer in the camp.

--- O ---

"Shit, I never could get the hang of this." Cid was attempting for the fourth time to roast his stick-skewered marshmallow over the open fire. His three burned rejects had been hastily consumed by Barret, who preferred the dark to the light anyway.

"Well, first of all, you don't actually stick it in the flame," Yuffie instructed, passing her own stick to Barret. "Here, let me show you."

Cid pulled his hand away. "Git yer grabby little hands away," he shouted as the ninja threaded her arms through his in an attempt to win the stick from him. "I can do it myself, dammit!"

Tifa giggled into her fist as the two started to wrestle over the stick, the marshmallow long since fallen off into the fire.

"If you two insist on dueling," Vincent's voice rumbled next to her ear, "then I would suggest a less dangerous arena." His statement was ignored by the two, of course, but Tifa sat up straight, and turned to face him.

Her marshmallow had just finished browning.

Grabbing a graham cracker and square of chocolate, she assembled a s'more and held it out to the man sitting next to her.

"Here."

Vincent raised an eyebrow, but didn't move to take it. "I respectfully decline."

Tifa stuck her lip out in a mock pout. "But…I made it for you." She coquettishly waved the treat beneath his nose. "C'mon…I know you love chocolate."

But the man did not move; he just kept looking into her eyes with that steady gaze of his. Tifa sighed, defeated. "Fine, I'll eat it then. It'll be your fault if I get fat." She raised the gooey confection to her lips, but it was snatched from her grip just as she bit down. She opened her eyes to find Vincent chewing, crumbs stuck to his lips.

"You have an ornery streak, Vincent Valentine," she admonished with a smile. "Who would've thought?"

Vincent had swallowed and was just about to reply when Cloud trotted up to the group, out of breath and frazzled. "We've got a big problem, guys."

Yuffie let go of the stick and turned to him, Cid smiling in triumph behind her. "What's up?"

"I think Emily's gone to Darknation's base."

Tifa, who had by now been filled in on all the happenings of the day, looked over at him. "Alone?"

"Yeah," Cloud answered, running a hand through his hair. "That blonde kid that worked for you gave her a message that said Darknation had her sister."

Tifa glanced to Vincent, who was watching the fire, and then back at Cloud. "But…that's not possible. Luna was with me."

"Exactly, but Em didn't know that."

"Uh-oh," Yuffie groaned as she plopped onto a fallen log.

"Uh-oh is right," Barret replied. "It's some kinda trap fo' sho'."

Cloud's expression was anything but calm. "I know, I told her that before and I made her promise she wouldn't go try any kind of rescue, but now she's gone."

"Shit," Cid intoned. "This is just what we need."

Vincent, who was still staring into the flame before him, shook his head. "Once again, young Miss Bordeaux has thrown caution to the wind and jumped headlong into trouble."

Cloud took a defensive step forward, his dander clearly up. "What exactly is that supposed to mean? It was some sort of trick!"

Vincent stood slowly, kicking a popping ember back into the fire. "Yet she chose to go despite the obvious. It was not an informed decision."

His face red, Cloud pushed past Cid and stalked right up to look into the cool ex-turk's face. "She thought her sister was captured," he spat. "What she did was admirable."

Vincent looked down at the blonde, seemingly disinterested. "But it was also foolish. Now she's become yet another liability to this organization because of her lack of control."

Tifa could see where this was going and was on her feet the moment Cloud came face to face with Vincent. The air was so thick with tension, it seemed hard to breathe.

"Oh, of course!" Cloud shouted, throwing his hands up. "Because none of us can ever be as perfectly emotionless as you! I swear, Valentine, it's like you're not even human!"

Barret stepped forward and placed a large and on the blonde's chest. "Hey, calm down. This ain't Vince's fault, and you know it."

Cloud's eyes flashed as he pushed the hand away. "Like hell! What happened to 'such times call for such risks!?' You're the one who put it in her head that she could take on Darknation all by herself!"

Vincent did not reply, he only blinked and brushed a speck of spit that had flown from the Blonde's mouth onto his face in his rage. Tifa set her jaw and tamed her tongue so as not to say anything that was any more of a catalyst. "That's reaching, Cloud. Emily is smarter than that."

"Yeah, well, apparently not! And now she's off God knows where in all kinds of danger because she doesn't listen to me! How can I protect her if she doesn't stay with me?!"

Something inside Tifa snapped, snapped like a dry rubber band on a hot day. All she could see was red, and this time, she had no intention of stopping herself.

"You really think you know what everyone needs, don't you Cloud?" Her tone was calm, but with a dark edge. She gave a mirthless chuckle. "You still don't get it, do you?"

Cloud blinked as she stepped past Vincent and looked up at him through her drawn brows. "What are you talking about?"

"Emily **needs** to listen to you because you **need **to protect her." Tifa held up her fingers and ticked off each statement. "Marlene and Denzel **need **a more stable family. I **needed **to move out of Midgar. But you know what, Cloud? You have NO idea what we **need**! We needed you! We needed you to BE THERE! We needed you to man up and work it out because, newsflash! Families DEPEND ON EACHOTHER!"

By this time, Cloud had assumed a look of complete shock, his wide eyes resembling a deer's who was caught in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler. But Tifa couldn't stop even if she **had** wanted to.

"But, no! You left because of some lame ass guilt you felt and left me and the kids alone! You know, it's not even as if you had to do anything butBE there!" Tifa paused, her teeth clenched behind her lips. "But you were busy with some **other** family. Giving time to **other** children and forgetting completely about the ones you LEFT BEHIND because of the painful memories they brought to you."

"You could've DIED, Cloud! And we wouldn't have even known! For six months we didn't hear anything and then I lost the kids and the bar and you weren't even THERE! You were taking your sweet time healing in some other family's bed after an accident that almost KILLED YOU!"

She was good and red now, her chest heaving and balled fists at her sides trembling. All the others simply watched as the torrent of words gushed out, the result of over a year of repression. "But whatever, right? You didn't even think about how we felt. You didn't even stop to call or write, did you? No!Because it's all about you and everyone else in this whole world be damned!"

Tifa bit her lip, tears flooding her eyes. She didn't like this part of her, this bitter and hurt side. But she couldn't hold back any longer.

Cloud stood there limply, looking perfectly abased. "I…I'm…" He looked down at his feet. "You deserved better than me…"

_Not that damned guilt, you sorry son of a bitch!_ Before it even registered in her mind, Tifa's right fist flew up from her side and collided with Cloud's face with a sickening crunch. The blonde stumbled backward into the arms of a waiting Cid, blood trickling down over his lips.

"You're right," Tifa replied as he wiped at his broken nose. "We **do** deserve better."

And with that, Tifa marched away, leaving Barret, Cid, Yuffie, Vincent, and a very stunned Cloud in her wake.

That had felt sinfully good.

--- O ---

Emily Bordeaux sat silently in the passenger seat of a black van; the men Keaton had brought were tucked in back while the young man drove. It was a crisp, cool night, but the moon was bright enough that they wouldn't need flashlights to break in. That was good.

They were close now, very close. Up ahead, Emily could see the turnoff for the drive that led to Darknation's lair. She had already advised Keaton to hide the van in the brush across the road. She was just about to tell him the location of the alternate entrance she and the others had found earlier that day, when the van turned left, instead of right, taking them down the gravel drive.

"Wait," Emily whispered to Keaton's determined profile. "You were supposed to park back there."

The young blonde ignored her, his determined gaze set on the road illuminated in his headlights.

"Hey, I'm trying to tell you that you're going the wrong way!"

The van slowed down to a halt and idled for a moment or two before Keaton shut the engine off and pulled the key from the ignition, all the while looking straight forward.

Fear laced into Emily's words. "What…what are you doing? Why are we stopped?"

Keaton opened the door and climbed out.

Emily turned to look at the men in the back. They were just as confused and frightened as she was. "Perhaps, we should get out too." The smallest of the six of them finally said. Emily nodded and all of them climbed out of the vehicle.

At first, all Emily could see were the dark trees lining the avenue and Keaton's solitary form standing completely straight in the middle of the road. She approached him with purpose, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Keaton…what are you…"

And that's when she saw them: darkly cloaked figures coming out of the woods on all sides of them, weapons in their hands. It had all been a trap, after all.

Emily spun frantically around as the nightmarish shapes closed in and watched as her men dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. Keaton, however, did not raise his hands. "Keaton," Emily began, her voice small. "Please…"

Then a figure robed in white came into view, the ghostly folds of his cloak practically glowing in the moonlight. He stopped only a yard from her and Emily could feel the scrutiny of his gaze as he looked her over. Emily had heard enough from the survivors of Darknation's torture to know who this was: Kale, the leader of Darknation. Hate and fear bubbled beneath the surface of her skin.

Kale eyed the six men who were now lined up behind Emily, their hands on their heads. He flicked his wrist in their direction and in a gravelly voice said, "Dispose of them."

Shots rang out as the men were gunned down right there in the woods, their blood spattering the ever-watching trees. Emily turned away, tears burning behind her eyes. All she could was whisper a prayer on their behalf.

The white-robed man then turned to Keaton, stepping close to the young man, his hands laced behind his back. "Excellent work, Niles."

Keaton smiled, but didn't look up, his feet squared and back straight as though he were standing at parade rest.

"Thank you…Uncle."

--- O ---

**Well now, how do you like that!? Two updates in 24 hours? Unheard of! Well, not for me, apparently. Lady Inspiration has struck, and when she beckons, you heed the call lest some unhappy fortune befall you!**

**Anyway, thank you to all those lovely readers who have ALREADY reviewed! All I can say is wow! I'm so close to hitting 200 reviews that I can taste it, so keep 'em coming!**

**So! I opted for some delicious VinTif moments in this chapter, trying to go back to some semblance of what the beginning of this story was like (as per request ^^). The fight with Cloud was also a treat, no? Ah, it felt like it was a long time coming. I must say, this chapter was a complete joy to write!**

**Shout out to my readers from FRANCE, INDONESIA, and GREECE! I'm totally international!**

**Thank you again to my beta, Kimmit the Ferg, for all your hard work and for letting me talk your ears off about what I'm working on and doing next.**

**And a great big hug of thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, faved, and subscribed for this story! It's been a real gas!**

**So, until next time (which will hopefully be soon), Arrivederci! **

**Fight the Power!**

**-- Illusion of the Mirror --**

11


	26. Unmasked

Unmasked

By: Illusion of the Mirror

"Oh, Aric, it's absolutely lovely!"

Emily Bordeaux held up the gift her best friend in the whole world had just given to her: a beautiful, solid gold angel pendant connected to a long, golden chain. It glittered in the dim candlelight as Aric lifted the piece from its velvet box and fastened it behind Emily's neck as she pulled her long hair out of the way. When he was finished, the young man sat down across from her once more.

"I was hoping you would like it," he smiled, taking a sip of red wine.

"I don't like it, I love it," Emily beamed, her fingers affectionately stroking the present.

There was a companionable silence between the two; then Emily looked up, her smile fading. "Do you really have to leave on a mission tonight? This is our year anniversary, after all."

Aric reached out across the table and took her small hands into his own. "Yes, Emily, you know I do." He gave her fingers an affirming squeeze. "Evil doesn't rest, and so neither do we."

Emily chuckled softly. "You make it sound like we're some sort of superhero avengers." She watched his fingertips massage her knuckles. "But it's not really our job, you know."

A sigh. Aric released her hands and rose, pulling his chair closer. "I know you're not happy about this, but if we don't stand up to Darknation, who will?"

"I still don't like it," Emily intoned, her eyes downcast. "Why did it have to be you that left tonight? Why not one of the others?"

"It was my turn, Emily. It's only fair."

"I know…but-"

Aric leaned forward and pulled the red-head into his arms, stroking her long, silky locks with his hand. "Don't worry, baby, it's all going to go just fine." Emily snuggled her face into his midnight blue sweater and sighed, prodding her fiancée into continuing. "And when I get back, we'll get married, go on a trip to the mountains, move into a quaint little house with a white picket fence, and have seven kids all named after your dad."

"And one after yours." She giggled and squeezed harder. "You promise?"

He gazed down into her sparkling green eyes and smiled, never more sure of anything in his life. "Yeah, Emily. Cross my heart."

A scant hour later, as the love of her life waved goodbye and set off to right the wrongs of the world, Emily lightly held the angel pendant that hung from her neck. Everything would work out. Aric would keep his promise, she knew it. Now, all she had to do was wait for him to come home.

But Aric Bronach never did.

--- O ---

The man known as Kale sat behind a large ebony desk, the long, white fluted sleeves of his cloak piled on the table in front of him as he folded his hands. "Welcome to my humble abode, Miss Bordeaux. Please have a seat."

Two tall and rather burly men in black cloaks lined with gold pushed Emily down into a wooden chair, her hands still restrained painfully behind her back. She had given up struggling the moment the crossed the threshold of the fortress, knowing any attempts at freeing herself to be useless. She had really bungled things this time.

Then, something unexpected occurred. Kale reached up and lowered his mask, letting the hood fall to his shoulders. The moment his dark, indigo eyes met hers, Emily realized that she was never again going to leave this place. Hate clogged every pore of her body as she longed to lunge forward and claw the man's face away.

"As you can most likely surmise from the fact that you still breathe, you are here for a purpose." He ran a hand through his gelled, graying hair, a sinister smile on his lips. "If you cooperate, this whole process will go much smoother for you." To punctuate his words, Kale reached out and patted the handgun he had placed on the desk when they arrived.

Though her throat was clogged with fear and loathing, Emily managed a reply. "I have no intention of cooperating." To punctuate **her** words, she spat off to her side. One of the guards grabbed the top of her head and slammed it hard against the back of the chair.

Kale gave an amused smile as the girl hissed in pain. "I'm afraid you have little choice, girl. You see, I don't need your assent to perform the ritual and release our secret weapon."

Emily blinked away a tear, her jaw set. Ritual? So they did mean to wield the demon…but why would she be able to help with that?

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. _They think __**I'm**__ the one with The Gift! They have no idea that it's actually Tifa!_

--- O ---

Deep within the bowels of Darknation's stronghold, Shera Highwind sat in the padded rocking chair she had been provided and watched as little Marlene lay on the concrete floor coloring and kicking her legs while she hummed "This Old Man." In her lap she held one of the romance novels that had been brought to their cell for the older woman to read.

Ever since they had been brought here, black bags over their heads and hands tied behind their backs, their captors had been suspiciously hospitable. Shera had been around long enough to know that if they were going to be killed, it would've happened already. So for some reason, Darknation was keeping them alive.

Actually, they were more than alive, they were comfortable, well, as comfortable as you can be in a prison. Guards brought three warm meals each day and came back every few hours to ask if there was anything else the prisoners required. The same nurse that had doctored Marlene and Shera's wounds the night they had arrived had the pregnant woman brought to the clinic every morning for a check-up. They had every convenience and necessity, as per the wishes of Darknation's leader. But what they didn't have was freedom, something Shera valued much more than the entire Harlequin series and an omelet in the morning.

The long hours spent in the quiet holding bay gave Shera plenty of time to think through their situation. Hostages would have been released by now, her old man would've payed any price to have her and Marlene back. No, the two captives were either being used as collateral, or something more heinous was at work. What was more unnerving though was the feeling that she couldn't shake; it seemed as if they were being fattened up.

Nearly forty-eight hours after they had arrived, the door to the detention center swung outward and two very large guards pushed through, a familiar petite figure dragging between them. Shera stood up as Emily was shoved into the cell next to hers and the gate slid shut, the electronic lock beeping to show it was engaged.

After the guards slammed the door behind them, Shera approached the wall of bars between their cells and reached a hand out, laying it on the disoriented girl's crown. "Hello, dear, I wish I could say I was happy to see you…but…"

Emily got to her feet and leaned her temple against the cool metal bars. "It's…it's good to see that you two are still okay.

Marlene, who had joined them, held up a picture she had drawn on a sheet of yellow legal paper. "I did this yesterday," she murmured. "It's you and Cloud."

Emily reached through the bars and took the drawing. "It's very pretty, thank you." Unable to stand for much longer, she sat back on the cot jutting out from the wall.

"Are you alright?" Shera asked, concern in her voice. "You look like you've been through a lot."

"I'm fine…I just need to rest."

Shera smiled weakly. "Well, there's definitely plenty of time for that here." She crossed to her own cot and brought back a goose-down pillow. "There now, use this."

The dizzy red-head received the pillow with quiet thanks and leaned her head back against the painted, white cinderblock wall behind her.

"You're the first person to get put in here with us," Marlene observed. Her little hands were curled around the bars as she stuck her head through. "I guess they don't get many prisoners."

Shera placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. She knew why that was; Darknation didn't take prisoners. People are easier to silence if they're dead. She was just about to tell Marlene to leave Emily be, when the door to the bay swung open again and three men in black cloaks, two lined with gold and one with crimson, stepped over the threshold.

--- O ---

The man known as Kale stood confidently in his office, his hands laced behind his back as he stared out the window into the darkness. He was exceedingly pleased with this turn of events. All that remained now was to set up for the ritual. Yes, everything was falling into place quite nicely.

A light knock on the door drew him from his musings. "Enter," he barked, and an elderly man wearing a cloak lined in crimson stepped into the room. "Ah, Azaezal, my most trusted wizard," he crossed to the hunched man, his arms outstretched. "What news?"

Azaezal looked about nervously, his hand gripping a black velvet bag so hard his knuckles were white. "Sir…I regret to say…I mean, that is…"

"What is it, man? Spit it out."

"The Talisman is not responding, Sir. This woman is not the one."

"WHAT?!" Kale reached out, his expression livid. "That can't be! Surely you have erred!" A vein throbbed at his temple as the cowering man merely shook his head while mumbling about auras.

Lashing out, Kale ripped the velvet bag from Azaezal's hands and shoved him aside. "It appears," he spat, "that I must do everything myself!"

--- O ---

Not fifteen minutes after they had left, the three men were back in the prison bay, a man wearing a white cloak storming through in front of them. Shera rose and held Marlene as the furious man punched in the authorization code to Emily's cell and then marched in, pinning the still reeling woman to the bars. He ripped something golden out of a black bag and held it up next to the red-head's wincing face.

"Hey," Marlene whispered into Shera's ear, her eyes wide. "That's the man that we saw at the college with Tifa!" Shera placed her hand over the girl's lips and shushed her softly.

The livid man glared at the Talisman then at the young woman before him. "Where is she: the woman descended from Marie Wolfe!?" When Emily didn't reply, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and smashed her head against the bars, eliciting a cry from her lips and a gasp from Shera and Marlene. "TELL ME!"

Emily remained silent, her eyes lolling to the side. Marlene began to sob into Shera's shoulder. Gradually, Kale's face melted into a calm facade and he backed away, letting the petite woman crumple to the floor. He turned on his heel and stalked out of the cell. With a flick of his hand, he addressed the guards on either side of the cell door. "Bring her out for questioning."

--- O ---

It was several minutes after everyone else had left before Shera even dared to move. She adjusted her hold on the still sobbing child in her arms. Things were getting bad and she smelled danger. It was time: time to implement her escape plan for Marlene.

With the guards busy and unlikely to come back any time soon, Shera struggled to her feet and began pushing Marlene's spare cot to the middle of the cell. After it was in place, she climbed on top and extended her hands toward the ceiling. Yes…that was just tall enough.

"What are you doing, Aunt Shera?" Marlene hiccupped. She rose as well and stared up at the older woman.

Shera alighted on the floor and took hold of both of Marlene's shoulders. "Listen to me carefully, now, okay? We're going to get you out of here."

Marlene glanced up at the ceiling. "You mean, through that vent there?" She pointed to the covered air duct that blew heat into the cell.

"Yes," Shera smiled, "exactly, honey. Now, I'm going to lift you up, and I need you to pull yourself into the vent."

"B-but…it's awful high up…"

Shera gave the girl's shoulders a squeeze. "You can do it, Marlene; I know you can."

The girl nodded reluctantly.

"Alright, now once you're in the duct, crawl toward the air that's blowing in your face. Eventually, it will take you to a mechanical room where there will be an exit door leading to the outside."

Marlene nodded again, starting to understand the plan. "And then, once I'm out, I go find the drain Emily told us about before the men came back in."

"That's right. Find the road and get back to Uncle Cid and Tifa, okay? They'll be able to help."

The girl stood up straighter, nodding a final time and Shera's eyes brimmed with tears. She stroked Marlene's cheek. "My brave little niece…" She enfolded her into an embrace. "I love you."

Marlene hugged the woman back, butterflies flapping about in her stomach. "I love you, too, Aunt Shera. Don't worry. I'll get Daddy and the others. I won't let them leave you here."

Shera sniffed. "I know. Now, up we go."

The two captives climbed onto the cot and Shera pulled the grate off the vent before lifting the child up to the ceiling. Together, they were just tall enough for her to reach and hoist herself up into the ducts.

"Do you feel the air?" Shera asked, trying to keep the tears from streaming down her face.

"Yeah…I'm gonna go now, okay?"

"Okay." Shera waved goodbye with a forced smile in place and as soon as the girl was out of sight, she replaced the grate and moved the cot back to its respective area. Hastily, she gathered the toys Marlene had strewn over the floor and the extra pillow off her own cot, piling them under the blanket. Then, she pulled her rocking chair over and sat down next to the seemingly inhabited bed.

Shera began to hum a lullaby, tears now flowing freely as she said a silent prayer. _Please, protect her. Please let her be safe._

--- O ---

It was dark in the air duct…and dusty. Marlene tried her hardest to crawl silently through ventilation shaft, but each time she set her knee down, the metal bowed with a pop that echoed down the length of the duct. This was just like the movies she and Denzel watched. Only…this time it was real. Marlene turned a corner and the air smelt fresher as it blew into her face.

She wasn't sure when or if she would reach the end, but as she continued, the air got warmer and the whirring up ahead got louder. For a split second, the image of a red-hot boiler popped into her mind and Marlene froze. Was this that kind of pipe?

_No, Aunt Shera said to go until I get to the mechanical room, so that's what I'm gonna do._

After what seemed like an eternity of creeping forward in the grimy dark, Marlene spotted a faint light down a tunnel to her right. Climbing up a slight incline, she advanced toward the glow and found that it was another grate like the one she had entered through, but this time, it was in the side and not the bottom of the duct.

Peering out through the holes, Marlene saw that this room was dimly lit by two bare overhead bulbs. She was about twelve feet off the ground, but there was a latter leaning against the wall only a foot to the left. _That'll work._

Threading her fingers through the holes, Marlene pushed the grate free and then held onto it as she poked her head out into the open. There was no one in the small room, but there was a door across the room. The sign that glowed about the door caused Marlene's heart to leap. The Exit!

The young girl tilted the grate to one side and pulled it into the duct. Setting it aside, she moved on to the next step; she had to climb down the ladder. Her dad had never let her play on ladders when she went to Uncle Cid's shop, so the very idea seemed forbidden, but it was her only choice. Cautiously, Marlene turned around and stretched a tentative foot out toward the ladder. Finding it to be sturdy enough and within her reach, she fully left the vent and scrambled down the ladder.

Once her feet hit the floor, Marlene went from feeling a sense of accomplishment to a pang of fear. She had to leave through the door before someone caught her! Swallowing the lump in her throat, she quickly dashed to the exit and pushed the metal door open. The chilly outside air rushed in and after one last glance behind her, the brave girl darted out into the darkness.

The moon was full and bright in the sky, so after her eyes adjusted, Marlene had little trouble finding her way around the trees that grew out of the manicured lawn. She scanned the ground for the drain Emily had mentioned, but it was nowhere in sight. Frightened tears poked behind her eyes, but Marlene fought them back. She had to be strong for Aunt Shera and the baby.

After several minutes of dashing tree to tree, Marlene finally found the drain. The holes in it were only about four by twelve inches, but she was small and agile. Taking a deep breath in an ineffective attempt to calm herself down, the girl got down on her belly and shimmied into the hole. Once her head and torso were through, she felt around the inside. It was pitch-black, but using her fingertips, she guessed that there was room enough for the rest of her in the space beyond.

Once she was completely free, Marlene dropped into the empty space and felt around for the drainpipe Emily had described to her and Aunt Shera. Finding it, she got down on her hands and knees and began to crawl again, feeling mud cake her knees and spider webs tangle in her hair. But she was doing this to save Aunt Shera and the baby, so she didn't have time to be afraid.

The drainpipe wasn't as long as the duct, and Marlene passed through it with relative ease. At the end of the tunnel, she could see the opening through which moonlight spilled in. The light prodded her forward with renewed strength. In moments she was out of the dirty, cement tube and in the open air of the woods.

Marlene stopped for a moment. The woods were silent except for the rustle of the dry leaves in the trees and the chirp of late-august crickets. An owl hooted in the distance and she suddenly felt very small and vulnerable in the night.

But she had a mission: find the road, get to Daddy and Tifa. Immediately, the mud stained girl set out along the wall that encircled the fortress. They had come here in a car…so there had to be a driveway out. And a driveway would lead to the road.

--- O ---

Margie Biersner was a kindly old spinster who, every Friday night, played bingo at the senior center outside of town. At that very moment, she was driving her and her two lethargic cats, Fluffy and Xerxes, back to her apartment in the suburbs. Her white sedan puttered along down the curving road at the roaring pace of five miles per hour short of the speed limit, but safety came first.

"Now, babies, Mamma's going to make you both a nice dish of cream and tuna when we get home okay?"

Fluffy blinked and turned away. Xerxes yawned.

While humming to herself about what she was going to eat as a snack, Margie noticed someone walking along the side of the road up ahead. She reached over and made sure the doors of her car were locked. One never can be too careful. But as the distance between them closed, Margie squinted her weak eyes to see that the person walking in the ditch was actually a little girl. Her clothes were dirty and she kept stumbling as she trudged forward.

Never one to leave a child alone in the dark, Margie slowed down to a stop a few feet away from the girl and leaned over to manually role down the passenger-side window. "Hello, little girl," she called out with a friendly smile. "Are you lost?"

The girl stared back at her with frightened eyes and then looked over both her shoulders before nodding.

"Well, hop in! I'm going to the city if you need a ride."

"Thank you," the little girl murmured and she approached the car.

Once the girl had buckled in and Margie had started forward, the old woman looked the girl up and down. "My my, but you're a mess! What's happened, dear?"

"I-I'm lost. I need to find my daddy."

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

The girl turned to Margie and offered a tired smile. "Marlene. I like your kitties."

--- O ---

The waiting list at the East Midgar public hospital was quite long, even for a Friday night. Catherine Stratford sighed as she flipped through one of the medical magazines from the rack for a third time. Ever since the explosion the Resistance had been scrambling to reassemble themselves. She, Altmann, and several other key members had gone to the police stations and hospitals within a short distance of the blast, knowing that any survivors might go there for help.

So far, Catherine had met very few faces she knew, but still she stayed, not wanting to leave anyone behind. As she gazed distractedly at the cooking show on the waiting room TV, the emergency room doors slid open and a hunched old woman enter, a little girl at her side.

The girl looked about with wide, brown eyes, taking the whole area in. Curious, Catherine moved closer in order to hear what was being said to the nurse behind the entrance desk.

"I found her by the road all dirty and scratched up like this," the elderly woman explained, "I think she's delirious. She keeps babbling on about demons and magic and being kidnapped."

The nurse glanced up, uninterested. "Name?"

"Marlene Wallace," the girl interjected, her chin resting on the tall counter.

Catherine instantly recognized the name and rejoiced at her good fortune. "Marlene!" She called out. All three turned to look at her.

"Marlene, I'm a friend of your father's. He and Tifa have been missing you terribly."

Marlene smiled. "Really? I've missed them, too!" She turned back to the elderly lady. "Thanks for all your help, Margie. Tell Fluffy and Xerxes bye for my, okay?"

Margie laughed and ruffled the girl's hair. "Alright. Take care of yourself, sweetheart."

The nurse behind the counter merely looked away and heaved a great sigh. "Next!"

--- O ---

**Hey, ho, and what do you know! I'm back for the third day in a row!**

**I'm pretty sure that this will be my last chapter for a little while, but hopefully not for too long. As this whole thing reaches its climax, it's getting harder and harder for me to put it down! ^^ It's great for the readers, but is wreaking havoc on my social life! Lol**

**What did you all think? I felt like it was time to bring Shera and Marlene back into the story and the whole thing started to take on a shape of its own.**

**So, shoot me a review! Shoot me two! (Just kidding, I know you can't.) I really relish the feedback. It's what keeps me going…that, and my need to get this story out of my system before it absolutely KILLS me!**

**Thank you to Ghedea, Fostersb, wolf of infinity, brokenmaelstrom, Darial Kuznetsova, and forevermare for reviewing on my last chapter. I hope all of you enjoy this one just as much!**

**Thank you, also, to all of my other readers, favers, and subscribers! I really can't do this enough. I'd be just another lame fanfiction writer if it weren't for you guys. You give me a reason to grow and progress!**

**A final thanks to my beta, Kimmit the Ferg. You know why. –wink—**

**Shout out to my readers from **_**FINLAND**_**, **_**CANADA**_**, and the **_**UK**_**! It's so cool that I have readers from all over the globe!**

**So until next time,**

**Hyvästi, Au Revior, and See ya later!**

**Fight the Power!**

**-- Illusion of the Mirror --**

9


	27. Storm Clouds

Storm Clouds

By: Illusion of the Mirror

It had taken nearly two hours for the analyst to thoroughly question Marlene, and Barret was in no mood to let her out of his sight when she finally raced out of the council's tent and into his waiting arms. "Hey, baby girl," he had crooned as she squeezed his neck and planted kiss after kiss on his weathered cheeks. "I missed you, too."

Then she asked him to help her find Cid. Now he was perfectly aware that she had missed them all while kept in a cell be Darknation, but Barret couldn't help the stab of jealousy at her request. But something in her sweet, brown eyes melted him, like it always did, and he agreed.

As they walked, she slipped her little hand into his and he recalled how brave his baby girl had been these past few days. She had not only escaped from Darknation's fortress by herself, she had hitched a ride with a complete stranger, gone to the hospital, and answered every inquiry from the Resistance's analyst without so much as shedding a tear.

The blonde doctor asked question after question trying to gather information about Darknation's plans and it didn't take long before Marlene was repeating the same statements again. Finally, she had leaned forward in her chair and looked directly into the adult's eyes. "I don't know anything else about it, ma'am. But if we don't save Emily, they're gonna kill her."

Yuffie had sucked in a breath. Cid muttered a low curse and stalked off. James Bordeaux laid a hand on the therapist's shoulder and told her that they were finished.

"There he is," Marlene pointed off to their right her soft voice pulling him from the memory. She looked up at her father and gave his fingers a squeeze. "I'll be back, Daddy." With that, she let go of his hand and approached the pilot.

Cid was sitting on a folding bench, staring into a dying fire, his brows drawn low across his weathered face. When Marlene sat next to him, he looked up. From where he stood, Barret couldn't hear what the pilot muttered or what his little girl said back, but he still watched as they spoke in hushed tones. Then, something happened that Barret didn't think he'd ever witnessed. Cid, lowered his face into his hands and began to weep. A moment passed in silence. Then, Marlene got up on her knees and slowly wrapped her arms around him, stroking his stubbly cheek with her slim fingers.

Though Barret's first instinct was to say something to his friend to cheer him up, his daughter's action stayed him. Not once had Cid really let himself grieve since Shera was taken…he needed this, and Marlene had been the one to see that.

"She's incredibly intuitive for her age, isn't she?"

Barret turned to see Nanaki sitting behind him, his eye on the rare scene before them. His lips curled up into a slight smile as he stood and approached his large friend.

"Yeah," Barret replied with a grin of his own. Then it faded. "So what's up?"

Nanaki flicked his tail and cast his gaze over his shoulder. "We appear to finally have a plan of attack."

Barret huffed, his bulky arms crossing over his chest. "'Bout time shit went down."

--- O ---

It burned, the way the ropes cut into her wrists, and there was nothing she could do, no movement that would give her relief. Moving actually made the coarse fibers bite harder into her flesh. She could no longer feel her fingers, but she was painfully aware of the stretching of the muscles in her arms. Try as she might to keep from swaying as she hung from a rafter, her feet a foot from the ground, each labored breath she took caused her to quiver and in turn, fresh pain would grit at her skin.

She focused on her breathing…tried to keep it shallow and even. She counted the seconds in between each breath…but she had long since lost track of how long she'd been suspended in this dark, clammy room. It reeked of decay and human waste; she almost missed the interrogation room, with its bright light and stark white walls. At least there she had been allowed to sit, even if she was beaten every time she refused to answer a question.

But she hadn't answered any. She hadn't betrayed anyone. Yet…

The sound of grinding metal broke the silence and the thick door to the dungeon swung open. Emily opened her eyes, blinking a little in the light filtering through, but did not look up. She focused her attention on the shadows of the three figures that entered the room in single file.

"Have you changed your tune yet, girl?"

She grit her teeth and kept as still as she was able. She would not gratify this monster with so much as a shake of the head.

Sebastian Malcolm flung out a hand and roughly grabbed hold of her face. "Don't make me repeat myself." Emily remained silent.

"Very well. Azaezal…make this little bitch sing."

The bent old man bowed and reached into black bag he had toted through the door with. Emily watched the shadow of the third man as he was handed something and then promptly she felt two large and very rough hands on her hips. There was a clink of something metal and a coarse ripping sound; she suddenly felt very cold as the remnants of her black shirt fell to the floor, leaving her goose-pimpled skin open to the air.

The big man stepped back and flipped some sort of switch. Grinding gears shrieked and Emily felt herself lowering until her toes were touching the cold stone below. Peering through her downcast eyes, she saw the old letch, Azaezal, shackling her ankles to some contraption on the stone floor.

Fear ate at her stomach even harder than the ropes ate at her flesh. She had no idea what was going on…but she knew it would be painful…most likely very painful. But no matter the pain, no matter the fear, she must not speak! She would not.

"Now," Malcolm hissed into her ear. "Let's see if we can't loosen that tongue."

--- O ---

Tifa knew what was coming as Marlene exited the Council's tent. She overheard Andrew O'Connor talking in hushed tones to his son. They were planning a siege of Darknation's fortress, a siege she would NOT be invited to join. It was only a matter of moments before they would summon her in to give her all the reasons that she must stay behind, stay safe. She was _the chosen one_ or some such malarkey. As she paused outside the entrance to the tent, Tifa had a feeling similar to when she was in grade school and had been called to the main office, which was silly because she hadn't done anything wrong_…well…_

Swallowing her doubts, Tifa threw her head back, squared her shoulders and stalked confidently into the tent.

Andrew started as she threw aside the entrance flap and crossed directly over to him, arms forced down at her sides and face schooled into a look of what she hoped was passivity.

"Why, Miss Lockheart," Andrew greeted after he had once again settled back into his usual businesslike expression. It was really starting to annoy her, actually…how professional all these people were. "We were just going to send for you."

Tifa resisted the urge to let loose a rather unladylike snort. "Really?"

"Yes." He continued, his features morphing into a look of practiced sympathy. "I understand that you're friend is still held in captivity by Darknation, but regrettably, we're going to need you to remain in the camp. Kale…Malcolm is looking for the one who possesses the Gift. He is looking for you. We can't let him succeed in finding you." He nodded to emphasize his words.

James Bordeaux, who had approached moments before grunted his agreement, and took a breath, undoubtedly in preparation for a long speech he had prepared in order to convince her to stay behind, or shame her into it. Tifa held up a hand before he could begin.

"I understand, gentlemen. The last thing I want to do is jeopardize the mission."

Andrew looked to James, who looked to Aiden, who shrugged. Then the older O'Connor awarded her with a smile. "Yes. Good. I'm glad that you see what we are trying to say."

Just then, a pair of men clothed in all black entered the tent and stepped up to Tifa's right without even affording her a glance. "The men are ready for the Council's orders, sir," the taller of the two stated in a raspy voice.

"Very good," Andrew huffed, rubbing his hands together. Both he and James started for the exit, but James paused, offering Tifa a tired smile. "Please don't hesitate to get some rest, Miss Lockheart. You've had a trying day."

_Trying, huh? I couldn't agree more_, Tifa thought tersely as the men left her behind in the empty tent.

--- O ---

"Are you really going to stay behind, Tifa?"

Tifa turned and met curious eyes. For a moment, she thought about lying to the child, but the question had been posed in such a way, that the girl had obviously already known the answer. Tifa sighed in concession and sat on the cot next to Marlene. "Can you keep a secret?"

Marlene's eyes lit up and she leaned closer, nodding conspiratorially. "I'm going to stow away and go with."

"But you told Daddy and Cid that you were gonna sleep," the girl mimicked Tifa's whisper.

"I know…but if the Resistance people find out that I'm not going to do what they say to, they'll make me stay."

"And you want to rescue Aunt Shera and Emily." Tifa noted this was not a question, but a statement.

She reached up and smoothed the girl's hair from her forehead. "That's right."

"Are you going to tell Vincent?"

"Well-I," Tifa answered slowly, taken aback by the question. "Actually, I couldn't find him." She waited as Marlene looked down at her hands, wondering what was going through the child's mind. Her father's voice floated dreamily into her mind. _"Penny for your thoughts, Tif?"_

Earnest brown eyes looked up at her then. "I won't tell your secret, Tifa." The girl rose from her cross-legged position and hopped to the ground. "And if anyone comes by, I'll just tell them you're sleeping."

Tifa stood as well, Marlene's shoulder a squeeze. "That sounds like an ingenious idea."

"But Tifa," the urgency in the child's voice cause Tifa to kneel, her face level with Marlene's, hand still on her shoulder. "You should tell Vincent the secret. I think he'd be sad if you didn't."

--- O ---

_She's very intuitive, for someone her age,_ Tifa thought as she stole through the dark woods away from the Resistance camp. Moonlight spilled through the quivering leaves overhead, forging silver paths down to the trampled brush below. Cold stars burned overhead, yielding ample light to navigate and it wasn't long before Tifa reached the tree line, the lawn beyond dyed gray by the moon.

"Alright," she whispered to no one in particular. "There's the house." Up ahead the silhouette of the structure loomed ominously in the night, its dark expanse seeming to gobble up the starry sky. Letting her muscles coil, Tifa prepared herself for the sprint to the impenetrable shadow created by the side of the old house. She counted silently down from three and then pushed off, traversing the empty space and skidding to a stop before throwing her back against the rough wooden wall.

Tifa strained to hear any sign that she had been spotted, but the dancing wind only brought the whisper of rustling leaves and the hoot of an owl. Any other noise was drowned out by the beating of her own heart in her ears. Satisfied that she was undiscovered, Tifa sidled around the house and climbed the front porch steps. She pulled her spare key from underneath the creaking porch swing and with little resistance, pushed the heavy front door open.

Dust motes floated lazily through the moonbeams that cut through the room. Tifa crossed to her endtable, where she kept one of her many flashlights and then, after pocketing an extra set of batteries, clicked it on, shutting the front door with a click that seemed to echo in the empty rooms of the house. "I'm home," Tifa whispered into the inky blackness, the sound of her voice barely registering in the expanse.

Sweeping the room with the bright beam of her flashlight, she made her way to the stairs. It struck her as odd how foreign the rooms looked in the yawning darkness. Climbing the steps, Tifa's thoughts drifted back to Marlene. "Tell Vincent" she had said. Well, Tifa hadn't lied when she said she couldn't find him. He had seemingly vanished as soon as Marlene had returned to the camp. Guilt tugged at Tifa's gut. She had felt mildly relieved that she didn't find him; she would've had to explain her plans and verbalizing them to an adult, even Vincent, she would have felt foolish…maybe even selfish.

By this time, Tifa had reached her own room and, keeping the beam of her flashlight low, crossed the room. After snapping the curtains on the side window shut, she dropped to her hands and knees, peering under the bed. A large white box sat under the foot of the bed, right where she had stowed it months ago when she moved in. She pulled the box out and blew a layer of dust off the top, coughing mildly as some of the particles puffed into her nostrils.

Rising to her feet, Tifa pulled off the lid and set an endtable before sinking down onto the bed. With halting, almost reverent hands, she reached into the box, her fingers gripping the cool leather inside. Slipping the garments from their resting place, a myriad of memories flooded Tifa's mind: Shinra, Jenova, Geostigma.

Setting the box aside, she slowly stood, holding the black leather outfit before her. She hadn't worn it since defeat of Sephiroth's clones, hadn't touched it since the day Cloud walked out and didn't come back. It had been painful; she'd intended to close that chapter of her life, to live normally packing school lunches and mixing drinks. But, if she was honest with herself, mundane life never suited her. She craved adventure, a reason to fight, a way to matter.

Divesting herself of her torn and dingy clothing, Tifa slid into the crisp attire and after tugging the last zipper home, let her eyes drop to the box and what remained inside. Picking up the limp black gloves, she felt a familiar pang of adrenaline shoot down her spine.

Outside her window, a flurry of bats streaked by, their squeaks rousing Tifa from her waking reverie. Pocketing the gloves, she grabbed her flashlight with her other hand and headed for the door. She had lingered long enough.

Eyes now somewhat accustomed to the still darkness, Tifa opted to conserve her flashlight batteries. _They always seem to die just when you need them most._ In the hallway, a warm breeze ruffled her stray hairs. Tifa paused. There's no breeze inside.

Suddenly, she had the overwhelming feeling that she was not alone, that someone was watching her from the dark shadows that pooled in the corners and behind bookshelves. _Business as usual_, Tifa thought as she forced herself to make her way toward the front door, but now her senses were on full alert. As she descended the stairs and approached the entryway, a sliver of silver light appeared. The door was ajar. She had definitely closed it.

Tifa halted in her steps, not even daring to breathe. The drafty old house offered up ample distractions of whistling wind and creaking floorboards. Somewhere, a mouse scratched away inside the wall. A chill shot down her spine, and Tifa whirled around, certain that someone was right behind her. But despite the wild beating of her heart, nobody was there. "Hello, Nobody," she murmured to the darkness.

"Good evening," a baritone voice answered from behind her, and Tifa nearly leapt out of her skin. She spun around, swinging her elbow at an arc meant to break or weaken the jaw bone, but the intruder had anticipated her strike and her arm met only air. "I had wondered why you agreed so readily to staying behind."

It was Vincent. Of course it was Vincent! Tifa took a step back, not attempting to hide her fury. "So you thought that stalking me, scaring me out of my wits, and being an all around sneaky bastard was the best way to find out?" She crossed her arms and huffed, attempting to shoot daggers at him in the darkness. "Bad plan, Valentine."

Vincent was unruffled. "Hm."

Silence settled into the gap while he seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer. Tifa was damned if she'd oblige him, not after he'd done something so…well, so…_come to think of it, Vincent's always a sneaky bastard._ It didn't matter. She was still mad.

Tifa took a step toward the door and realized that Vincent was effectively blocking her exit. She attempted to step around him, but to no avail, he thwarted her efforts each time. "You're in my way," she stated lamely, crossing her arms in what she knew was a childish pout.

"Hm," Vincent replied.

"So move." Tifa let her annoyance lace into her words.

Vincent didn't reply. He didn't move either.

Tifa reached past him to pull the door open, but a booted foot stopped it where it was. She let out an aggravated sigh and gave the handle a firm tug. In reply, Vincent kicked the door shut and in one swift movement, clicked the deadbolt into place.

Thoroughly nonplussed and more than a little exasperated, Tifa backed away arms akimbo. "Fine. I'll use the back door then." She turned to do just that, but in a blur of shadow and violent stirring of the still air, Vincent had effectively blocked the arch leading into the kitchen.

"What? So you're just going to keep me here? Babysit me like a five year old?" Tifa let loose a mirthless chuckle. Then cut him an icy glare. "Not gonna happen. This Malcolm guy played me for a fool. I owe him a couple of broken bones."

Vincent was unmoved.

Tifa decided to try a different route and softened her voice. "Please, Vincent, I'm sick of being left behind. I can help."

A beam of moonlight that cut through one of the many paned windows illuminated his face. Her pleas had seemingly no effect on him. Ire bubbled to the surface once again. "Let me pass, Vincent."

The expressionless face tilted to one side: a gesture that almost seemed to say "make me."

_Very well._

Tifa made to turn and head back toward the front room, but suddenly whirled around, bringing a solid knee up to meet Vincent's stomach. At least, that's what it was supposed to do. Instead, her shin collided with his crossed forearms, an effective shield. Vincent smirked. Tifa glowered and swung an elbow around in an attempt to strike the side of his bowed head.

In one fluid movement, Vincent ducked below the blow and spun off to her side. Seizing the opportunity, Tifa charged the back door, but one of the kitchen chairs slid across the floor, effectively delaying her and then he was blocking her once more. "So that's how it's gonna be," Tifa hissed.

"Hm," Vincent replied.

In a flash, Tifa threw herself forward, dropping to one knee and sweeping with her right leg. Vincent managed to leap over her attack, but it was close and Tifa was encouraged. In a single move, she spun to her feet and then launched into a series of punches, each directed at the vital points she'd been trained to strike, but only met air and hard muscle as Vincent dodged and blocked her barrage with relative ease.

But her goal wasn't to land a hit; it was to get out the door. Though landing a hit was looking more and more satisfying. She shot a fist toward his gut and, as anticipated, he blocked with his forearm. But rather than recoiling for another shot, Tifa grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him foreword, bringing in a high kick so that he would dodge to the side in order to break her hold.

It worked! Flinging herself at the door, Tifa yanked the knob but as soon as it opened the door slammed shut once more. She looked up to see Vincent's hand holding the door in place and dropped to the floor. Placing her back against the door, she kicked with both legs at once, sending him far enough away that she could have time to escape.

Surprised at her success, Tifa flung the door open and scrambled out into the night air. But her victory was short-lived, and she realized that she wasn't home free just yet. Spinning around, Tifa took a stance facing the open door. Darkness lurked inside the threshold, but Vincent was nowhere in sight. _This just got a whole lot harder_. Night was Vincent's element. Inside, she could at least see him, hear him. He was contained. But out in the open…the advantage was obviously his. Suddenly, Tifa felt very much like a hunted animal.

"So, what?" she whispered in a voice she was sure he could hear. "You're on their side?" Tifa spun around, checking her flank. No matter which way she faced, she always felt like he was just behind her. "You gonna keep me in a box just like Cloud?"

Somewhere in the immediate darkness, Vincent hissed.

Tifa took a cautious step to the side, her ears straining to hear any sign of him, even though she knew she wouldn't. "All those people…all those people at the hangar are dead, Vincent!" Anger shot out with his name and Tifa felt hot tears poking at the back of her eyes. "And if I hadn't…if I hadn't been so damn curious-" She spun around again, unable to shake the feeling that he was somehow circling her in the shadows. "Malcolm would have never found out!"

Tifa took a step backward, her vision clouded with tears. "He wouldn't have found them…" she trailed off, dropping her fists to her sides, but not unclenching them. "There were children…and I…I'm the one who…OOF!" Out of the darkness, Vincent sprang, tackling Tifa where she stood. Vainly, she struggled against him as he grappled her flailing arms and pinned her to the ground. Even as she fought against him, her strength was waning and the tears were coming in earnest now.

"Tifa."

His low, serious tone nearly demanded she look at him. Reluctantly obliging, she turned her bleary eyes toward him and felt a heavy weight pool behind her breastbone. Vincent wasn't angry; in fact, his countenance didn't even betray a hint of annoyance. Instead, he looked down at her with something not unlike sadness. Tifa went rigid beneath his gaze. Marlene was right…she had made him sad.

"Tifa." He exhaled her name in a nearly inaudible whisper. Even though it was breaking her heart, she couldn't tear her eyes from his. "It's not your fault."

"B-but I-"

Vincent released his hold on one of her wrists and laid his fingertips over her lips. "No," he murmured gently. "None of it." He relinquished his hold on her other wrist, but didn't move to stand up. A forgotten tear forged a path down the side of Tifa's cheek, and with a dip of his head, Vincent kissed the droplet away, his lips still lingering to spill hot breath over the tender flesh near her ear.

The hollow feeling in her chest swelled and suddenly Tifa was so sorry. She was sorry for not trusting him. She was sorry for lying and evading. And most of all, she was sorry that she had never told him that she loved him.

Vincent's head shot up, his severe eyes capturing hers and Tifa realized that she had just said everything out loud. Slowly, he pulled away from her and rose to his feet. Tifa covered her face with her hands; all she wanted to do was curl up and cry for hours.

"Tifa."

The brunette peered through her fingers to see Vincent leaning down, his hand held out to help her to her feet. She took hold reluctantly and then, once standing, busied herself with dusting invisible dirt from her clothes. He waited silently until she was finished.

Reluctantly, she met his eyes and found that he was smiling; not a smirk, but an actual honest-to-goodness smile! He placed his right hand over his chest and cleared his throat.

"I, Vincent Valentine, hereby absolve you, Tifa Lockheart, of any guilt regarding myself or those things that are beyond mortal control, such as reading the future." He quirked an eyebrow at her open-mouthed expression and lowered his open hand. "No more 'angsting'. Now shake on it."

Tifa merely stared, that is until she realized what was going on. She threw her head back and let out a musical laugh then shook his hand firmly. "Smart words," she teased good-naturedly. "You must've learned them from a real genius."

His smile itself was gone, but it still lingered in his eyes. "Something like that."

--- O ---

**Greetings Readers! I'm back!**

**I'm all done with University for the year and now it is summer time, and that means more time to finish unfinished projects! So, I'm endeavoring to complete this fic by the start of the new school year. It has been plaguing me for over 3 years now. Things will be moving fast coming up and the exciting conclusion is nigh! So stay tuned and make sure to review! (If you don't know how…it's the little button below the text!)**

**Shout out to Ghedea, brokenmaelstrom, wolf of infinity, Darial Kuznetsova, forevermare, TifaValentine99, Shtit, 3phemerA, hunter777, and Darkangelwp05. Also, a great welcome to my newest readers and rapid reviewers H. J. Noxera and Pyra Sanada. All you guys make me happy, like, WOW.**

**A big thanks to my betas Kimmit the Ferg and P. Batman Owen for their continued patience and support…and editing, lol.**

**And shout out to my readers from **_**SWEDEN, MALAYSIA, **_**and **_**BRAZIL! **_**I love the fact that I have readers from everywhere! It makes me do dances in my head and sometimes for real!**

**If you have any questions, concerns, or suggestions, please don't hesitate to shoot me a message. Your opinions matter to MEEEEE! *omnomnom***

**ALSO! If any of you out there are VinTif writers, I am open in the beta community and will give precedence to those who are my readers. Just throwing it out there because my betas help me so very much…everyone should have some sort of help like that, even if it's just to cross I's and dot T's. lol Okay, off my soapbox now. **

**So until next time,**

**Adjö, Selamat Malam, and Adiós!**

**Fight the Power!**

**-- Illusion of the Mirror --**

10


	28. The Passing

**Hello all. Haven't written in a while…but I wanted to do this chapter right. You'll have to tell me if I did or not. Be warned, I have upped the rating of this story due to the disturbing imagery in this chapter. I hope that this is everything you have been waiting for, dear readers. **

**Written while listening to Prayer for the Innocent (Psalm 23) by Robert J. Kral.**

The Passing

By: Illusion of the Mirror

Crickets chirped, leaves rustled and late summer stars twinkled overhead as Marlene Wallace sat cross-legged outside the entrance flap to Tifa's vacant tent. It had felt like forever since Tifa left the girl to her important mission, and not a single soul had attempted to storm the gate, as it were. Long since tired of standing centurion-like at the ready, Marlene had seated herself in the cool grass and taken to gouging holes in the forest turf with the toes of her soiled tennis shoes.

Then, an unexpected sound cut through the relative silence of the trees and Marlene's head whipped up instantaneously. There is was again! Something between a whisper and a…

"Psst! Hey! Marley!"

A harsh hiss flew from the tangle of elderberry bushes to her left and Marlene scrambled to her feet, taking up a fallen branch for defense. "Who's there?" She demanded in hushed tones.

Two glinting orbs peered out through the brush and Marlene heard the intruder shift toward her. "A friend. Please don't hit me with your stick."

The girl glanced at her makeshift weapon and then lowered but did not drop it. "Who are you," she queried skeptically.

The hidden figure slowly extricated themselves from the scraggly branches of the shrubs and stepped into the moonlight. It was a girl…not much older than Marlene herself, with wild blonde hair that was still snagged in the bush. Band-Aids scattered her freckled skin and though she held her hands up, Marlene did not drop the stick.

"It's okay, Marley…my name's Luna and I'm a friend of Cloud Strife." The girl took a step forward, a ridiculously grave look darkening her face. Marlene shifted her weight awkwardly as the girl called Luna looked her up and down, and, seemingly pleased with what she saw, placed her hands on her hips, a toothy grin splitting her features. "You're just like Mr. Serious said you would be."

Marlene was about to ask what the girl was on about when the crunch of gravel heralded the approach of some new intruder. Canting her gaze so that she could keep Luna in sight as well, the brunette glanced toward the sound of the footsteps and almost squealed with joy. "Denzel!"

"Hey, Marlene…oof!" The girl flung herself at Denzel, not even noticing the two boys behind him. "Wait 'til you hear what happened to me! Oh, you'll be so proud!"

Denzel smiled as she pulled back and her glimmering brown eyes met his. "I'll bet I would…but first, where's Tifa?"

It was then that Marlene became aware of the newcomers and she eyed them suspiciously as the succinctly stated, "Tifa's asleep." She stepped away from her adopted brother and crossed her arms over her chest. "Who are these guys?"

The boy nodded over his shoulder, his expression mirthless. "The tall one's Mason and the other's Benji. The girl with leaves in her hair is Luna Bordeaux." He paused and then leaned forward, his voice low. "Tifa's not here, is she?" Marlene wouldn't meet his eyes and didn't answer. She was never very good at lying to Denzel. He could always tell.

Luna approached the two, notably plucking the leaves from her tangled locks. "Look, Marley, we're not your enemies here, so you don't hafta be so skeptical." At this, the girl's hand shot out and the toothy smile was back in full force. "Actually, I've decided you're going to be my new best friend!"

Marlene hesitantly reached out to return the handshake, which ended up being just as vigorous as she feared it would be, and cast a questioning glance to Denzel. The boy merely shrugged.

"So!" Luna grinned, still gripping Marlene's fingers, "How's about the five of us go roast some marshmallows or something?"

"Um…actually I'm supposed to stay here and make sure no one wakes up Tifa…"

Luna looked down at the brunette, her features melting into a look of something akin to respect. "Okay, then. We'll stay with you then. And you can tell us all about your adventure, okay?" Here she turned to her posse of two. "We'd like that, right boys?"

"Sure!" exclaimed Mason. Benji merely nodded sheepishly as the children sat down in a circle.

Thrilled with the notion of relating her tale to listeners her own age, Marlene didn't even notice as Luna reached over and squeezed Denzel's hand, her inconspicuous wink letting him know that she wasn't going to tell any grownups that Tifa had flown the coop. Denzel turned away, hiding a blush. He could really like this girl…you know, if she bathed a little more and talked a little less.

- O -

"Hey…Cid?"

The pilot responded without lifting his eyes from the assault rifle he was cleaning. "Yeah, Squirt?"

Yuffie crinkled her nose at the nickname, but let it pass. She glanced down at the shirriken she had set out on her lap and began stuffing them back into her side pouch as the large black van the group was traveling in took a wide turn. "Do you…do you think it's fair that they made Tifa stay behind? I mean, it's her fight too."

"I doubt the Resistance **could **make Tifa stay behind?" Red XIII replied from the seat in behind her and Yuffie turned as far as her seat-belt would allow, a question in her eyes. The large cat gestured over his shoulder with his muzzle. "Doubtless you've noted Valentine is not with us."

The young ninja huffed and sat back in her seat. "Yeah, well, I'm sure he's off having a hell of a time being creepy but that wasn't what I was asking."

Red shook his head, his great mane jingling as the adornments clinked together. "It's improbable that the Resistance has the same notion of **fair **as you, Yuffie."

Ignoring the mild amusement in his voice, Yuffie continued to simmer. "Still! It just feels wrong…I mean, even Cloud gets to go!"

Red merely shrugged in response.

Moments later, the vehicle slowed to a stop and the driver pulled the key from the ignition, motioning for the passengers to get out. Barret, who due to his size had been riding in the first row of seat by himself, struggled to maneuver, his great girth wedged in the doorway.

"C'mon, Big Guy!" Yuffie called impatiently from behind the gunner. "It's hot back here and Cid smells!"

Cid snorted as he pointedly lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and puffing the smoke out with a smirk. "Deal with it, Princess."

Claustrophobia beginning to set in, the ninja placed a booted foot in the small of Barret's back and ungraciously offered the extra force needed to dislodge the man. He popped from the doorway with a grunt and turned back to glare as the other passengers as they exited. "Ya'll are lucky I'm savin' my energy for them Darknation nimrods."

Yuffie pushed past the big black man and stalked toward the edge of the woods where the task force was amassing for the final debriefing. She cast her gaze over her shoulder to watch as the long line of vehicles that had brought the Resistance to this place, continued to the rendezvous point. "Guess we're on our own now," she murmured, and jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Aidan smiling wanly at her and returned the gesture with little more jollity before the young man pushed his way to the center of the crowd.

"Alright," the red-haired youth began. "I'm just going to go over the plan one last time. We can't have any hiccups." There were nods all around as Aidan pulled a knife from his boot and stooped to the sandy soil below. As he spoke, he crudely began to trace a map of the plan into the dirt. "The mission is composed of three parts. Group A will be the distraction. This unit will be lead by Altmann and Stratford and will be a more obvious frontal attack and draw the attention of the guards."

"Group B will be the rescue." Here, he paused and nodded to Cid. "You and your friends will break off from the initial attack and look for the holding cells so you can bring the prisoners to the rendezvous point." Cid took a long drag off his cigarette and nodded tersely in response.

"And Group C will be the demolition team." Aiden straightened up with a chuckle which was echoed by several other members of the group. "This Group will sneak in through the back entrance that was detailed to us by the young girl who escaped and will place these," he lifted a satchel full of powerful explosives, "in strategic places inside the building." The young man met Yuffie's gaze and pulled a stack of C4 explosives from the satchel. He placed them in her outstretched hand and she immediately tucked them into her side pack.

"Now, there will only be four of us setting the explosives, so it's vital that we not be seen or heard. The whole plan hinges on the detonation of these." As he continued, Aidan passed one stack to a young man dressed in black and another to Cloud, who was standing next to him. He left the remainder in the satchel. "If we play this right, we can blow Darknation from this earth. Any questions?"

There was a pregnant pause filled only with the benign sounds of night but the tension, fear, excitement, and hatred hung in the air, making it almost difficult for Yuffie to breathe. She laid a hand on Red's shoulder to steady herself, apologizing quietly. He merely sniffed and nuzzled her leg in encouragement.

"Okay," Aiden grunted as he hefted his satchel over his shoulder, "Let's get to our places. The attack starts when I give the signal." At this, Stratford, hardly recognizable in her black jumpsuit and mask, pulled a radio from her belt and saluted an affirmative before heading off in the direction of the front gate, the twin katanas crossed over her back glinting in the moonlight.

"Well, I guess this is where we part," Cid mumbled as the main group broke away.

"Yeah," Yuffie stated in what she hoped was a flippant tone. "Don't get yourself killed, old man."

The pilot smirked at the jab and Barret chuckled. "You take care too, Yuf." He reached out and shook the Wutai warrior's hand.

And that was it. After a farewell nod from Nanaki, Yuffie turned from the others and followed Aiden and the two others to the storm drain, desperately trying to convince herself that the prickles behind her eyes were not tears.

- O -

"Do you think she'll be okay?" Barret asked as he watched Yuffie disappear into the night-saturated woods.

Cid dropped his cigarette stub into the dust and crushed the ashes beneath his boot heel. "Sure," he replied, throwing his rifle his shoulder and turning to leave. "If there's one thing that kid's good at, it's sneakin' around."

Nanaki smirked. "That, and cheating at cards."

Cid grinned crookedly. "Yeah…I might have taught her that one."

- O -

Tifa sat on her front porch, rocking back and forth in the porch swing and staring out into the darkness that stretched before her. The moon wasn't as bright as it had been these past few days, and clouds were beginning to pepper the night sky, blotting out the stars and throwing the world into shadow. A cool gust of wind swirled past and Tifa closed her eyes, almost daring herself to believe that none of this had happened. _It's so strange,_ she thought to herself. _In spite of all the wars we humans fight…in spite of all the cruelty and carnage…the planet will always be here, will continue on even if we destroy each other and nobody is left. The sun will rise, the rain will fall, and the wind will continue to blow through the trees._

Footsteps on the wooden steps caused Tifa to open her eyes and she suppressed a smile as Vincent Valentine sat next to her on the swing.

"Did you finish your phone call?" she asked, hoping he caught her annoyance that he hadn't let her listen in.

"Obviously."

"Well," Tifa huffed, "Don't be cryptic. What's the plan?"

Vincent leaned his head back and chuckled. _Chuckled!_ "You will see soon enough." Tifa grimaced in annoyance.

"And what's wrong with telling me now? Don't you trust me?"

At these words, Vincent turned his gaze on her and Tifa felt all annoyance wash out of her. "Yes. I do."

A traitorous blush started to creep over her skin, so, clearing her throat, Tifa stood and started toward the stairs. "Okay…good. Shall we get going?"

A hand captured her wrist, effectively halting her steps. She hadn't even heard him get up, but this was Vincent. It was easy to forget sometimes how unearthly stealthy he could be.

"Tifa."

She turned and met his eyes, intending to say something but for the life of her couldn't remember what. She settled for leaving her expression open. Lord, but he was close…

With his eyes slightly lidded as they were, Tifa couldn't read his expression but as she felt his fingers ghost along the edge of her jaw, she found it didn't really matter. Letting her eyes slip closed, she nearly shuddered as his soft lips brushed hers, only to become more fervent as she skimmed her hands up his chest to his shoulders.

Again and again his lips caressed hers, and she was heady with the sensation of it, but as a soft breeze skirted by, bringing with it the scent of rain and pine needles, she realized suddenly that there was far too much space between them and pulled herself flush against him, hands wresting in his ebony locks. Her proximity seemed to embolden him, and when Tifa felt his teeth rake along her bottom lip, she nearly forgot all about Darknation and Cloud and that annoying need she had for breath.

He pulled away slightly, and though she was grateful for air, Tifa instantly regretted the distance. That is, until his hand slid up to cradle the back of her head and his thumb began to deftly massage circles into that tender flesh behind her ear. Warm breath spilled over her cheek as he dropped tender kisses from her jaw to her shoulder and back before once again capturing her lips in his.

_I love this man,_ Tifa thought as returned the kiss with every ounce of fervor with which it was given. _I love this vexing, stubborn, complicated, mysterious, and altogether bewitching man. And oh! Is that his tongue?_

As her lips eagerly parted to allow him to enter, Tifa tried desperately to block out the _**WUP WUP WUP **_of a nearing aircraft. But the sound grew deafening as the helicopter landed on the front lawn and Tifa almost growled as Vincent slowly pulled away from her.

He placed one last chaste kiss on her lips before she opened her eyes completely and smirked at her irked expression. "I believe that's our ride."

"Right, well, they can wait one more minute." And with that, she claimed his mouth once more.

- O -

"Boy, when you call in a favor, you really call in a favor!" Tifa shouted to be heard over the noise of the aircraft as she adjusted the buckles on her parachute.

Vincent smirked and batted her hands away and finished the alterations himself before leaning in to address her. "I should think that obvious by now." He gave the pack a shake to emphasize his point.

Tifa grinned broadly. "So what do we do after we land?"

Vincent quirked an eyebrow at her. "Did you not have a plan when you decided to join the attack?"

Tifa paused, and thought a moment. "I have a bad feeling about this, Vince. I just feel like I need to be there for some reason. Like there's some sort of unfinished business I have. I can't…I can't really describe it." She gazed out the open door of the helicopter at the treetops rushing past. "I know it sounds like a lame reason. I just really want to punch Malcolm's teeth out, you know?"

At this, Vincent smiled and shook his head as he rose, steadying himself on the railing by the door to the craft. "I do," he shouted. "Come, we're almost there!"

Butterflies erupted in Tifa's stomach as she braced herself for the leap out of the aircraft. It wasn't as though she'd never done it before, but still. Freefalling for those first few seconds was quite unnerving. She reached over and gave Vincent's hand a squeeze. To her surprise, he reciprocated. Smiling, she returned her attention to the passing scenery feeling like there was nothing she couldn't do as long as this man was by her side.

- O -

Yuffie sat on her haunches, every muscle in her body pulsing with anticipation. She looked up at Cloud, who was leaning on the fortress wall next to her and gave him what she hoped was a companionable smile. It must have worked, because he almost smiled back and uncrossed his arms before kneeling down. "You ready, Spikey?" Cloud merely nodded and scratched the back of his head.

Aiden reached over and gestured for the two to be quiet. "Okay," he spoke into his handheld radio. "Time to go."

There were a few moments of silence, and then an earthshaking explosion thundered through the woods as Groups A and B blew the heavy gate off its hinges. An alarm immediately began to sound in the distance and Aiden nodded to the three members of his team. "Now remember. Don't be seen; don't be heard. Just lay all of your explosives and get the hell out of there."

Cloud and the other young man murmured in agreement and Yuffie swallowed hard.

"Strife," Aiden nodded to Cloud, who reached into his pack and pulled out a blow torch.

"Alright," he stated grimly as he turned toward the drain. "Let's mosey."

- O -

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like a millennia as the air tore past Tifa on every side and the treetops rushed up towards her. Reaching out a trembling hand, she gripped tight the ripcord and with one swift yank, deployed the chute. She was suddenly jerked upward and had she not been ready for it, would have had on hell of a case of whiplash. Recovering quickly, Tifa grabbed the handles of the bridle and began to steer her chute toward the large stone structure ahead. Straining to hear over the roar of the wind rushing past her, she could barely hear the flap of Vincent's own parachute behind her. Strengthened by the knowledge that he was close at hand, Tifa swallowed the lump of bitter anxiety in her throat and watched as Darknation's fortress loomed closer and closer. It surprised her how something so difficult to find could be so visible in the night, the way the light stone stood out against the dark woods.

Then a blinding flash accompanied by a deafening boom disturbed the air and left Tifa blinded momentarily. As her vision returned, she righted her course and smiled to herself as she watched the ground charge toward her. That would be the Resistance right now, a perfect distraction for their landing.

Bracing herself for impact, Tifa bent her knees and took a deep breath. As the courtyard steadily grew closer, she steered past tall oaks and touched down in a break in the trees, running forward a few paces to slow her speed before unhitching herself from the chute. Vincent landed moments after and as Tifa pulled off her pack, he stowed the chutes in some nearby yews.

Tifa glanced around them. They had alit in the courtyard on the opposite side of the building that the Resistance was currently storming. She and Vincent were counting on the fact that the alarm had been raised and that their entrance would go unhindered.

As the two darted from shadow to shadow, which were much more ample now that thunderheads had begun to rally, Tifa started to feel a renewed sense of wrongness. It began behind her breastbone, a sickly pressure that threatened to collapse her lungs. But now it began to spread to every limb on her body. It was a palpable fear mixed with repressed hopes and dreams, like nothing she'd ever experienced. She hadn't realized she'd stopped moving until she felt Vincent's steady hand on her shoulder.

She looked up into his shining scarlet eyes, trying her best to smile and failing miserably. "I'm alright," she murmured before he could ask her what was wrong. "Let's just keep moving."

- O -

No sooner had the debris from the explosion settled then had the agents of Darknation rushed out to meet the Resistance army. Barret glowered as he watched a mass of flowing black robes rush toward them down the entry road. He looked to Cid, who had somehow in the last few seconds managed to light and half-smoke yet another cigarette. He heaved a great sigh and braced his gun-arm in his left hand. "Ya'll ready?"

Cid gave a crooked grin. "Yeehaw."

Without another moment, the pilot leveled his auto rifle and rushed forward, spraying bullets in the direction of their attackers. Smiling at his friend's antics, Barret followed, letting loose a battle cry that would frighten a charging tiger.

As if in answer, the rest of the Resistance army hurtled forward, shouting and firing their weapons. Nanaki was the first to meet the enemy soldiers, roaring as he leapt onto the man, his jaws closing around the enemy's throat before pinning him to the ground to finish him off.

Whipping out his side arm, Cid fired into the face of a hooded figure rushing at him from the right and then pushed forward, determined to get inside and rescue his wife at any cost. He was so intent on reaching the open doorway, that he didn't see the cloaked figure with an auto shotgun leveled at him until it was too late to aim and fire. Surprised when buckshot didn't rip through his favorite organs, Cid whirled around to see a tall man with long hair and a brown duster standing over the enemy gunner. Nodding his thanks, the pilot trudged forward, Barret hot on his heels, firing at any Darknation soldiers who might've taken it into their mind to follow them.

- O -

Alex Altmann reached down and pulled his throwing knife from the recently attacking soldier and watched as the pilot and his large friend pushed into Darknation's stronghold. "Best of luck, my friends," he tilted his wide-brimmed hat to their retreating forms and promptly spun to sink his blade into an enemy who had intended to catch him from behind.

"Watch yourself!" called a voice to his left, and Altmann leapt behind a tree trunk just in time to avoid a spray of bullets from a man with a sub-machine gun. But the shots didn't last long before the soldier found himself impaled on a glinting blade and was left bleeding in the grass as Catherine Stratford kicked his weapon away.

Altmann stepped out from behind the oak, smirking at the carnage before him. "Thanks, Catie."

- O -

_**CLANK!**_

Cloud switched off the blowtorch as he pushed aside the drain cap with his free hand. "We're good to go."

Exceedingly grateful to be out of the tiny, dark tunnel, Yuffie wasted no time hoisting herself from the hole and stretching her limbs. "Next time," she whispered harshly to Cloud. "I'm in front!"

"Alright team," Aiden directed them. "This way." The four hastily made their way toward the emergency exit and though it took a few minutes to find the door, after the discovery, Cloud made swift work of the lock using his blowtorch.

Once inside, Aiden addressed his team one last time. "This is it. Now, you all know what you're supposed to do. Get to it! And don't forget to come back alive!" With that, he climbed the concrete steps to the entrance to the room and cracked open the door. Hearing and seeing no one, he opened the door wider and ushered each member of his team out, pausing longer with Yuffie and gripping her arm tightly. "Be safe," he whispered, his serious gaze burning into hers.

She swallowed and nodded her ascent. "You too." Not a moment later, she was off down the hallway, searching for the boiler room. _Time to start some fires!_

- O -

After kicking in what she had assumed was a basement window, Tifa and Vincent had lowered themselves into a dark and empty office. Tifa wondered in passing why a bloodthirsty group of evil soldiers would need offices with staplers and sticky notes, but immediately dropped the thought when Vincent motioned her toward the door. Straining her ears to listen, she could hear the pound of bootsteps down the hallway outside. Once they had faded, Vincent opened the door and peered out before allowing Tifa to exit the office. The hallway was dimly lit with bare overhead bulbs and walled on all side by unpainted concrete. Tifa looked to Vincent with an expression that read, which way?

Pausing a moment, he considered their route. Tifa could hear the echo of gunfire from outside somewhere and the shouts and pounding footsteps from inside. But another sound was beginning to drown them all out…a steady _**BA-BUMP BA-BUMP.**_ It was muted, as if the sound was filtering across a great expanse of ocean, but at the same time, the noise was unbearably loud. Tifa's hand flew up to her ears in an effort to block out the piercing thuds.

She could feel, rather than see or hear Vincent at her side. She could feel the enemy soldiers upstairs; feel their fear and their anger. The pressure in her chest increased tenfold until she felt as though she was choking and she could feel arms wrapping around her and she could FEEL everything and everyone! Just one great living mass moving and grinding against her. Squeezing her eyes shut to stop the pressure, she tried to focus, tried to breathe…and then, a pinpoint of light seared through the darkness and Tifa's eyes shot open, all pain and fear forgotten. "This way!"

- O -

Behind this door. Tifa knew that whatever the light was, it was behind this door. And it was fading. She glanced at Vincent who merely returned her gaze with his usual emotionless stare. Taking a deep breath, or as deep as the pressure in her chest would allow, Tifa turned the handle and pushed the heavy wooden door open.

Immediately, she was bowled over by the awful stench of decay and human waste. The room was so utterly dark…the kind of dark that bears down on one's soul…the kind of dark that squelches all hope of future happiness. Beside her, Tifa heard Vincent take in a hissing breath.

"What is it?"

"Tifa…this is…" He wouldn't say anything further. Or couldn't.

Tifa reached into her pack and pulled out a small, but strong flashlight. But before she could turn it on, Vincent laid a cautioning hand on hers, his eyes full of…was that sadness? Or was it anger?

The beam sliced through the room as Tifa switched on her flashlight and immediately, she saw what Vincent had been so disgusted by. Stepping over the threshold slowly, she approached the hanging figure in the center of the dungeon, for that's the only word that could be used to describe the room.

Bile rose in Tifa's throat as she neared. The body limply dangling by its wrists was barely recognizable as human, let alone by name…or at least it would've been had it not been for the blood spattered gold angel hanging from a gold chain around the figure's neck.

"Emily," Tifa choked. "Oh, God, no!"

Closing the distance quickly, Tifa lifted trembling hands, not sure how to use them, not sure what to do. Vincent was at her side then, a knife in his hand. He reached up and carefully began to saw through the accursed ropes that had bit so hard into the girl's wrists that tendons showed.

Hot tears stabbed behind Tifa's eyes as she leaned forward to catch the girl's body. It was at that moment that she felt a heart-breakingly shallow breath gust out against her cheek. Emily was still alive?

As if sensing Tifa's thoughts, Vincent promptly began to drag the only table in the room over to the women and helped Tifa lift the injured girl and lay her down.

During this process, tears had begun to flow unbidden down Tifa's nose, dripping on Emily's face as she leaned over her, her hand on her cousin's raw and bloodied forehead.

"Tifa…"

It was terribly weak, but even Tifa had heard the girl say her name. "I'm here, Emily. I'm right here."

Paper thin lashes fluttered open and Emily's once fiery green eyes, now a milky dull color, found Tifa's face. Her fingers twitched as Vincent cut the ropes still binding them together and as soon as they were free, Tifa took the young woman's hands into her own. She tried in vain not to let her eyes wander down the bruised and lacerated body of her dear cousin.

Strips of flesh hung from muscle where a cruel whip had cut repeatedly into her. The rope burns on both wrists and ankles cut so deep, bone was visible. Emily's hair, once beautiful auburn, was now hacked short and caked with blood, several chunks having been torn out of her scalp. Her bare chest rose and fell alarmingly slow.

"Tifa…I'm…I…"

Tifa choked, bringing her cousin's limp hands up to her lips. "It's okay, Emily. I'm here. You're safe now." She knew it was hopeless. She knew Emily couldn't be saved. She had lost far too much blood…

But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to admit it.

A gurgling cough shook the young woman's broken body and Tifa tried her best not to break down and sob. "Tifa, I didn't…I didn't…"

"You didn't what?" She reached out and stroked Emily's hair. Trying to smile. Trying to appear hopeful.

"I didn't tell." Emily bared her teeth in what Tifa could only assume was supposed to be a smile. "Didn't tell about you…didn't tell…about anyone…"

Torture…Emily had been brutally tortured for information about Tifa…it was a realization that was like a knife through the heart. Tifa's strained smile faltered. "Oh, Emily. You…you're very brave."

Releasing a shuddering breath, Emily used her last vestige of energy to lightly squeeze Tifa's hand. "Didn't…didn't tell…" Another cough, but this one left her frighteningly pale as blood bubbled at the corner of her mouth. "Tell…tell…"

Tifa leaned in, barely able to hear the dry rattling words passing over Emily's lips. "Yes, honey?"

"Tell Cloud…tell him to smile…tell him to…carve…carve my grave…tell him…"

Tifa nodded, not understanding the woman's words, but immediately burning them into her memory. "I will, Emily. He loves you…we all do…" Once again, tears slid past her eyes, soaking her face.

"…love…yes…love…all…"

And with a smile still on her face, Emily Bordeaux died.

Tifa wept, her fingers still entwined with her dead friend's. Collapsing to her knees, her heart breaking, she wept until her sobs held no tears, only pain, sadness, and anger. She wept even as Vincent knelt beside her and drew her to him and she wept even harder at the tender words he whispered to her. And then, when she could weep no more, Tifa released Emily's hand and got to her feet, Vincent rising beside her.

Reaching into her pack, she drew out a pair of leather gloves and slowly tugged them onto each hand. Then standing straight as a rod, she unclasped the angel pendant from Emily's neck and hooked it round her own.

She then turned to Vincent, steel in her gaze. "Let's go."

And they did.

- O -

**And so, dear readers, thanks once again for reading this ongoing story. Your feed back is greatly appreciated, so please review.**

**Heartfelt thanks to Wolf of Infinity, Darial Kuznetsova, Forevermare, LovelessxHarlequin, Alamrin, and B12 for reviewing on my last chapter. You're what helped spur me to write this one.**

**A special thanks, as always to Kimmit the Ferg and P. Batman Owen. You know what you guys do.**

**And another special shout-out to new reader JessicaJ. She's a fellow Vincent/Tifa writer and if you like my fanfiction, I heartily believe that you should give her page a visit. ****[Link]**

**And that about sums it up. I'll be back to finish this as soon as possible, I promise. Only two chapters left…can you believe it? It's been quite the journey. Anyway, I'll see you all soon!**

**- Illusion of the Mirror -**

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